Story of a Gypsy King
by a-callipygian
Summary: Life is never easy for the King of the Truands, but a well-timed joke and the finest girl in France never fails to bring him joy in this dark little world. A slightly twisted version of the Hunchback story with our favourite jester as the main character. Rated M for lemon and graphic depictions of torture in later chapters. Clopin/Esmeralda.
1. Distractions & Painkillers

**Title:** Story of a Gypsy King

 **Summary:** Life is never easy for the King of the Truands, but a well-timed joke and the finest girl in France never fails to bring him joy in this dark little world. A slightly twisted version of the Hunchback story with our favourite jester as the main character. Rated M for lemon and graphic depictions of torture in later chapters. Clopin/Esmeralda.

 **Characters:** Clopin Trouillefou, La Esmeralda (pairing)

 **Genre:** Hurt/Comfort, Romance

 **A little info before you read:** I know what you're thinking, what clotpole is releasing a Hunchback story 22 years after the Disney film came out? I get it, but it's such a great film and still one of my favourites, and Clopin is one of my favourite characters despite his limited screen time. I recently rewatched the amazing Musical which inspired parts of this story, so if you haven't watched the musical version of the performance, I strongly suggest you watch it before reading this as there are a **LOT** of references (you can find it here - watch?v=A1cG5_zrOFM&t=3777s). It is largely referenced from the Musical and Disney film rather than the book, and though it is still the Hunchback story it is completely from Clopin's point of view. There will be a lot of Clopin/Esmeralda, they are my secret guilty pleasure ship and there just isn't enough fanfiction for them. It's heartbreaking. Future chapters will delve into Clopin's past and have some very graphic depictions of torture and war. Anyway, I hope you enjoy and feel free to leave a review! Feedback is appreciated!

This chapter is just a little introduction to everything that is happening, so prepare for a lot of exposition, and is set about a week before the Feast of Fools.

Notes and French Translations are at the end, enjoy!

* * *

 **CHAPTER ONE: Distractions and Painkillers**

It was often said, in these dark times, that the King should _always_ keep his word.

This was rarely true for the King of France. It seemed almost comical that one as impressionable and repulsive as Louis XI could be nicknamed 'the Prudent'. Perhaps it was an inside joke shared between his advisors and court members, very much like Alfonso 'the Slobberer'. Nevertheless, this joke, however funny it might be for the King's people, was not one that the Romani people found humorous.

The King had not been seen in public for the past year, suffering from all sorts of problems and diseases that he had only brought on himself. In his dotage, he had become easier to manipulate, particularly by his greedy advisors and the members of the Church, who wished nothing more than to see taxes rise and the Rom to be thrown from the streets, despite the earlier promises that they were to be left alone and the taxes lowered. Consequently, it had become apparent that King's rarely kept their word, no matter what people may say.

Clopin Trouillefou, however, was _not_ one of these Kings.

Nor was he a King, really. It was an honorary title given to him by the people who followed him, but it was a title he cherished and bore proudly. He had been the Leader of the Truands since a very young age, and he wanted to continue to lead them far into his prime. They were more than his people, they were his family, his friends, his _blood_. Despite the constant danger and neverending fight happening all around them, Clopin continued to give his people hope, continued to find them food and water where there was none, continued to keep them safe underneath the treacherous streets of Paris. There seemed to be no obstacle he couldn't overcome, no problem so big he couldn't fix, almost godlike to the Romani who followed him. Clopin would continue to let them think this way, no matter how much he struggled to maintain their existence. Ignorance was bliss in this dark little world. They would cling to even the smallest strand of hope with their lives, despite how fragile it may truly be, and Clopin didn't want to admit it but it was becoming more fragile by the minute. These last few days had shown that.

The past week had been an anthropomorphised version of the place that the Pagans referred to as Hell. It had kicked off with an ambush on a Gypsy caravan that had been delivering the food and water supplies to the Court, leaving barely a crumb behind for the already starving people waiting for the delivery. A fight had broken out in the town square, between a few members of Clopin's troupe and some of the King's Guard, which had left two men gravely injured and one boy with a few broken bones. The King had issued out orders through his spokesmen that the Gypsies were no longer allowed to set up camp in areas that were usually deemed safe, meaning all the Rom living outside of the Court had been forced to return there, just as the ration supply had gone down. Finally, to top it all of, a large group of soldiers had chased one of the younger girls through the town and back to the graveyard where the Court's entrance resided and had come uncomfortably close to finding it. The Gypsy King had been returning when the event occurred, conveniently, and had managed to pull the child out of harms way before they could find her, but the fact they had come so close to discovering them made his hair stand on end.

Clopin sat forward, elbows leaning on knees and long, pitch black hair falling into his face, from his position at the side of his bed. The sigh he let out was long and tired, and with it came the large cloud of smoke from the cigarette he'd been puffing on. He regarded it attentively in his hand, watching as loose ash fell from the tip, and groaned. This was no use at all. He'd assumed a quiet night of drinking and smoking would help tide his mind over or, at the very least, help him sleep, but it seemed to be doing quite the opposite. His thoughts were racing and he felt far too awake to even consider sleeping, despite the tiredness that pushed behind his eyes. It had been a long day, but then again, every day recently had felt that way. There was no reason why it felt this way, it wasn't like their situation hadn't always been this bad, but lately, it had been taking a larger toll on him than usual. Perhaps it was just because of his exhaustion; being the Gypsy King was a lot of work, after all, he had to give himself some credit.

He cast his gaze away from the cigarette and towards the bottle of Coteaux du Layon standing on the night table, and felt his mouth become dry, feeling a sudden urge to wash down the tobacco with the wine. He reached over and took the neck of it, bringing it to his lips and letting out an aggravated groan when no liquid came. _Empty_. Another sigh, he threw it carelessly back onto the table, not even remotely caring when he heard it roll off the surface and smash on the ground. Nothing was seeming to help. He felt reluctant to address that that had been his second bottle of the night, worried it would only drag him down into this bottomless depression further. The fact he was still sober was distressing enough already, he half wondered if it was possible to become immune to the effects of alcohol since it seemed to be having little effect on him.

He ran long fingers through his beard thoughtfully. He wished he was drunk. He wanted to be able to sing and mess around and forget his problems, let the wine do the thinking for him for once and get himself into all sorts of trouble. He wanted to listen to the music that his people played so beautifully, allow himself to get lost in it, dance carelessly along to the rhythm and join in with their songs. He wanted to be with his people, to sit with them and share his stories, and listen to their own tales and laugh with them, but even the thought of seeing them at this time was more than he could bear. They would have questions. When could they feed their families again? When could they leave and go back to their homes? When would they be safe?

Clopin didn't have the answers; he was in the dark, just as they were. It was becoming almost impossible to guarantee his people their safety. He had briefly considered moving them deeper into the catacombs that the Court resided in, but the potential danger and weeks of scouting to find a secure enough location was riskier than just staying put. There was a chance that they wouldn't even find anywhere, and the action would just prove to be a waste of valuable time and resources. Not to mention it would require everyone to pack up their things and move their homes, and he was sure everyone was far too tired and hungry for that hassle at the moment.

He took another long drag from the cigarette, swallowing down the smoke and feeling the slight burn in his throat before he exhaled it out once again through his nose. His eyelids flickered briefly, at least he could find momentary relief when the tobacco went through his system before it disappeared again just as quickly as it had come. He didn't doubt he would be in trouble if anyone found out he'd been smoking, again, especially if a certain raven-haired Gypsy was the one to discover him. Esmeralda would likely give him a stern scolding if she saw him, or perhaps even a smack across the back of the head, the fiery devil that she was.

The corners of his mouth slowly turned up into a smile as he allowed his mind to finally drift away from the week's problems and focus solely on her instead. La Esmeralda. She was probably one of the only people who would know exactly how to take his mind off a situation like this one (if he wasn't too stubborn to tell her what the situation was in the first place). He despised anyone seeing him struggle, even her, the woman he trusted and loved more than anything in the _monde_. Oh yes, he loved her, more than he was ever willing to admit out loud. Clopin was rarely a coward, in fact, he was probably one of the most reckless of the Romani people, risking life and limb to strike out against the King and his cronies - whether with speeches of protest, or swords and confrontation. However, when it came to words of affection and feelings, his fearless nature fled him, leaving him weak and yellow-bellied. Butterflies fluttered around in his stomach at the sight of her, threatening to push through his throat when he tried desperately to express the emotions he felt towards her, but knowing that only rejection awaited him made him bite his tongue. It was true that they had spent many an evening together, experimented with one another and engaged in the occasional night of meaningless pleasure - but that was all it ever was to Esmeralda. He was her stress relief, as she thought she was his, but it was always so much more to him. He craved the feeling of her skin beneath his fingertips, her angelic voice whispering in his ear, her lips on his neck. She was the epitome of perfection in his eyes, and as much as he longed to tell her, his thoughts would always remain thoughts. Clopin was a coward, but at least he could admit it.

A sudden realisation dawned on him that he hadn't seen her for the past few days, no wonder she had been on his mind. It was strange, they usually spent almost every day together, or tried to see each other as much as they could. It could be forgiven; they had both been busy recently, with everything going on between the King and the ration depletion, and the upcoming Feast of Fools (Clopin's favourite time of year). There was a lot to prepare for, which, unfortunately, left little time for socialising. He made a mental note to try and see her soon, after all, as much as he would pretend to be as casual as possible, he had missed her terribly.

He pushed himself up slowly from the bed, hearing bones shift and pop as he did, unable to help the grimace that came across his face when he heard them. He was too young for his bones to be aching this much, or at least he'd like to think. Choosing not to worry about it, he crossed to the wardrobe in the corner of his room, the wooden doors opening with a creak as he peered inside to see what his wine supply looked like now. Three bottles stood in a row underneath his clothes and other garments. He considered them for a long while, before shutting the door once again, deciding a third bottle wasn't going to change anything. The second had clearly had no effect, seeing as he was still walking in a straight line. He began to drift back to the bed and suddenly paused as he heard the sound of footstep echoing on the steps outside of his tent. He looked to the entrance just as the fly sheet opened, and Esmeralda herself appeared there as if she'd heard his thoughts and come running.

Her black curls fell perfectly down her body to her lower back, pushed out of her face with a purple headband, despite a few loose strands. She wore a dress that fit her figure perfectly, a white top that was pushed off her shoulders, revealing the smooth skin there and slight cleavage, along with a blue corset and multi-coloured skirt. Her feet were bare, though she had golden bangles around her ankles and wrists, as well as a single gold hoop in her ear that matched his own. His breath caught at her entrance, his eyes looking over her entire figure, taking in every single detail as if trying to burn her into his memory. It was almost fascinating to him that just her mere presence was enough to sweep him off his feet.

The feeling was quickly chased away, however, when his eyes landed on the stern expression on her face. He was in trouble.

''Esmeralda! I wasn't expecting you, _cherie_.'' He exclaimed, joyfully, quick to hide the expression of stress and exhaustion that had been there before with a large beam. He felt his eye twitch slightly when there was no response, and half wondered what had her so riled before he watched her gaze move down to his hand where he held the cigarette between two fingers. He inwardly cringed and took a discreet step back towards the nightstand where the ashtray resided, reaching to stump it out as if it would make her magically forget about it. The attempt was short-lived when she marched over to him and grabbed his wrist before he could do so. He let out a chuckle, glancing up at her. ''Ah, foiled again.'' He smiled up at her innocently, batting his eyelids. Needless to say, she didn't look impressed.

''Oh please, Clo. You know I can smell it from a mile away?'' She said sternly, letting go of his wrist once again and folding her arms. He took the liberty of spreading his own arms wide and shrugging his shoulders dramatically, staying jovial.

''In that case, there's no point in stopping either.'' He teased, as he popped the cigarette back into his mouth, which just earnt another eye roll from the lady in front of him. The motion of doing so meant that she spotted the discarded wine bottles beside his nightstand, becoming especially concerned when she noticed one of them had been smashed to pieces.

''You've.. had a lot to drink as well. What's on your mind?'' She asked, with a simple head tilt, lowering herself to sit on the edge of his bed. She was no fool, she knew him well enough to know when he was trying to get his mind off something, and alcohol and smoking were his favourite painkillers. She could read him like her favourite novel. Even still, he only shrugged his shoulders once again, nonchalant as ever.

''I'm just relaxing.'' He murmured, joining her on the bed, orientating his body towards her. ''So, what can I do for the most beautiful lady in France?''

''Flattery isn't going to get you out of this one.''

''So it has before?''

'' _Clopin_.'' She protested, trying desperately to sound stern but the smirk that crept onto her face was inexorable, as was the blush from the way he admired her for it. She had to remind herself to focus, he was only trying to get out of the conversation, and unfortunately for him, she wasn't going to let it slide that easily. ''We both know something is troubling you. You've been off for days; you're not eating, you're not sleeping. You've been sneaking out in the night, and I haven't seen you at the tavern for days, and I know you _love_ -''

''I guess I wasn't in the mood.'' He interrupted, his tone more serious than before, and she suddenly got the impression she may have been pushing the line. She bit the inside of her lip, not wanting to push him, but she couldn't allow him to carry on the way he had been. They needed their leader, and what use would he be if he was too weak to do anything because of starvation or sleep deprivation? Something needed to be done, even if it meant him getting angry with her. Her gaze flicked back up to him as he took the cigarette back between his lips and drew in a large breath, the muscles in his back relaxing as he breathed in the smoke, eyes closed as he savoured the second's bliss. The whole tent smelt of smoke, she'd been able to pick it up from the bottom of the steps that led up to his platform, it was impossible to tell how many he'd gotten through.

''How many of those have you had?'' She asked carefully.

''Today?''

''Yes.''

''Fifteen.'' He said casually, barely even acknowledging her when he spoke. The long silence that stretched out afterwards confused him and his curiosity got the better of him, opening his eyes again to see why she wasn't responding. The expression he saw on her face was both amusing and unsettling, and he reached over to the ashtray in a split moment's decision, stumping out the cigarette hurriedly. ''And I guess that was my last one for today.''

''For today? You're not having anymore for the rest of the _week_!'' She decided, leaning over and snatching the packet from him, much to his dismay.

''Esme, that's hardly fair.'' He pouted, sitting up to reach for them. Esmeralda apparently had other things in mind, however, as she suddenly pulled the hem of her top out slightly after a moment's consideration and pushing the packet down her top and into her bra. Of all the things he had been expecting her to do with the packet, this had not been one of them. It took him a second to register what he happened, his eyes wide and his cheeks a lovely pink colour, whilst she just watched him with the smuggest expression she could sunder. His eyes locked onto hers again, narrowing them and planting a smirk on his face. ''How naughty of you, mon cher. Are you going to let me retrieve them?''

'' _If_ you tell me what's wrong.'' She informed, in a more serious tone, which was surprising for a girl who had a cigarette packet between her breasts. He growled softly at her change of subject, before leaning back and rubbing his temples.

''You're not going to let this slide, are you?''

''Nope.''

''It's not even that big of a deal.''

''Just tell me.'' She said, exasperated, which he quickly noted and nodded, giving in with a long sigh.

''Everything seems to be going wrong this week.'' He huffed quietly, not looking at her, focusing his attention instead on a loose piece of fabric on his sleeve. She paused, watching him silently, hoping he would elaborate. ''Rations are running low, the Court is becoming overcrowded, the Soldiers are on high alert.. they even came close to the entrance yesterday. They checked almost every grave, stayed for hours. They were so close to finding us.'' He scowled, and Esmeralda suddenly noticed how tense he was. It was clear all over his body, his hunched shoulders and stiff neck, the way he clenched his fists in frustration and closed his eyes. She wished she could take it all away for him, allow him to be at peace, even just for a few hours. She reached her hand over and laid it on top of his, trying to uncurl his fingers.

''They've come close a lot of times before, you know. They didn't find us then, and they won't now. You've never let it get to you before, why are you so worried?'' She asked softly, which was only met with a groan of aggravation.

''It's different now,'' he muttered, ''everyone is finally settled with their families. We have a working society thriving down here and now even the King knows about it. We've never settled so well into a place before, not even the old Court. It's perfect. If we have to leave, it's just back to square one.'' He glanced up at her, the tiredness showing in his eyes. ''I can't put everyone through that again.''

''Clo...'' She sighed softly, watching him fondly. ''Everyone knows how hard you work to keep us safe. We all admire you for it. If we really did have to leave again, every single one of us would follow you to the end of the world. There is no sanctuary without you.'' She said, turning his hand to hers and squeezing it gently. He watched the action, pausing momentarily to brush his thumb across the back of her hand, before looking away and pulling his own back again.

''I just don't want to let them down.'' He said, his voice heavy, as he drew himself up from the bed and moved towards the tent's fly, stepping outside without warning. His sudden move surprised her, gathering herself and hurrying after him, opening the flaps to see him lean against one of the wooden poles, looking down at the Court below, his expression solemn. She smiled at him sadly, her heart aching for him, as she moved over to look down beside him. The people below were happily going about their lives, oblivious to the dangers and problems that only Clopin knew they were facing. People moved about their tents like every other day, drinking and dancing and sharing stories, the sound of music and singing reaching their ears from every direction. Children ran around the settlements, playing and having fun amongst the caravans and the large stage that Clopin had put up for doing puppet shows. The entire Court hummed with life, positive energy and emotion coming from every angle. It was enough to lift both their spirits again. Esmeralda felt the warm feeling build inside her upon watching it all, and when she looked up to Clopin beside her, she knew he felt the same. The same fond smile graced his features as he admired his life's work, the beautiful underground city that he had risked life and limb to build. One that could be easily destroyed with just one tiny mistake, any small slip up that could lead the Guards right to their hiding place. It was no wonder he was so afraid to lose it all. She sighed softly, linking her arm with his and leaning her head against his shoulder.

''Every single person here owes you their life.'' She whispered quietly, admiring him. ''You are _our King_. You could never let us down, despite what you may think.'' She reassured, leaning up onto her tiptoes to plant a kiss on his cheek, before returning her head to his shoulder. He smiled widely, leaning his own head against hers and closing his eyes tiredly, content.

''Thank you, _cherie_.'' He said, sighing softly. ''You always know what to say. Perhaps I'm an idiot for not consulting you sooner.''

''You are.'' She agreed, and he let out a huff of breath which could have sounded, to anyone who didn't know him, like annoyance, but Esmeralda knew it was laughter.

''Rude.'' He mumbled in response, feigning offence, despite the smirk that showed on his face. She hummed softly.

''Mm, and what are you going to do about it?''

''I don't think you want to know.''

''Oh, I do.'' She drawled sarcastically, giving him a look that almost dared him to try anything. He saw the challenge in her eyes, and narrowed his own, before moving forward in one swift movement and grabbing her around the waist without warning and hoisting her over his shoulder. She let out a small shriek as her feet were lifted from the ground, and she was suddenly staring at the back of his shirt, arms reaching out to clutch around his middle for support. ''What are you doing?! Clopin Trouillefou, put me down **_this instant_**!'' She demanded, hitting his back with a fist and kicking her legs, even as Clopin held them down.

''I apologise, _mademoiselle_ , but you should know by now that I'm not one to turn down a challenge. And besides, you insulted your King, punishment is in order.'' He said matter-of-factly, and she could hear the mischevious tone in his voice, to the point where she wanted to kick him and wipe the smirk off his face, but she played along.

''You are right as always, my liege.'' She quipped back, just as playfully as him. ''Perhaps the punishment would be more entertaining in... private?'' She suggested subtly, taking advantage of her position against his back to lightly scrape her nails under the material of his shirt, grazing against the skin, sending a shiver all the way down his spine.

''You know me too well, _mon amour_.'' He managed, though his words trembled with the feeling of her nails against his skin. He spun her around in his arms until he had one arm under her knees and the other on her back, smirking down at her in his arms as she wrapped her own around his neck. She collected herself for a moment, always surprised when he showed the strength he had, a strength that didn't seem possible for a man so lithe. He moved them back inside the tent quickly before any prying eyes could see them, taking her over to the bed and proceeding to drop her mercilessly down onto it. She fell against it, sprawled out against the covers, gazing up at him admiringly, beckoning him towards her with a finger. He complied without hesitation, kneeling against the end of the bed as one of his hands traced along her leg, pulling her skirt up as he did. She shuddered underneath the touch, his fingers moving lazily over her stomach and up to her bosom, accentuating her curves. His hand stilled as the same mischief flashed across his expression and he pulled back the hem of her top and retrieved the packet of cigarettes she had shoved down there earlier. Esmeralda had to blink a few times to process what had just happened, dumbfounded.

''Ah, thank you, my dear.'' He said, smug, standing again in a swift movement to put them back in his drawers. She let out an audible groan, shaking her head with either annoyance or fondness, she couldn't really tell which. Even still, she would teach him to ignore her like that. She pulled herself up from the bed and pulled at the strings of her corset, allowing them to unknot and fall away, her top and skirt following closely behind. In no less than a few seconds, every inch of her honey coloured skin was on show to him. She walked towards him slowly, the golden bangles on her ankles giving away the movement and causing Clopin to finally turn and look at her.

He let out a short gasp, blinking feverishly as he took in the sight of flesh and beauty before him. She had a figure that most girls would kill for; the world's finest sculptor could not have fashioned her curvilinear waist and chest any better. She was not ashamed to admit she was extremely confident in her body, she danced every day and ate well, and it had paid off for the better part. Besides a few scars from past fights and a rather large birthmark that took up half of her thigh, which Clopin only believed made her more perfect, she was rather self-assured. Enough to be able to strip down in front of him, apparently. His eyes were still glued to her, mouth hung open slightly, feeling as if he were in a trance. Though he'd seen her this way countless times before, her beauty still made his legs shake and his mouth dry, entranced by her.

''Esme-''

'' _Hush_.'' She interrupted, as she stopped in front of him, face to face. ''You need a distraction, and I'm providing one. If you'll allow me?'' She whispered suggestively, practically pressing him up against the drawers. He looked momentarily breathless, and for a second she wondered if she'd broken him. She only smiled, taking his stunned silence as approval and pressed her lips to his without hesitation, kissing him softly and allowing her arms to slide around his neck. There were a few more seconds of stunned silence before he finally responded, hands finding her waist as orientated his whole body into the kiss. Managing to find his handle again, he turned them around swiftly, sitting her against the drawers, pressing himself closer to her, wanting to be in control of the situation. She allowed him the dominance, moaning softly at it, fingers finding the buttons of his clothes and undoing them with speed, wanting it off. She struggled with the last few, and Clopin simply yanked it over his head instead after an impatient groan.

''Desperate, are we?'' She smirked, pulling away to continue the kisses down his neck, nibbling against his pulse. He moaned and shivered, giddy from the sensation of her lips against his skin, every inch of him feeling raw and sensitive.

'' _Tais-toi_.'' He mumbled, shakily, flinching as her fingers found his belt and slipped her hand into his trousers, wrapping around him. He hissed behind grit teeth and pressed into her hand needily, slowly allowing himself to fall into the sensation, no longer aware of anything except Esmeralda and the feeling of her fingers around his hardening length. He knew full well that it probably should have taken a lot more to get him to this stage, but he was proving to be overly sensitive, he hadn't been touched this way in a while. Esmeralda was clearly surprised, opening her mouth to point it out before he cut her off before a sound had even left her lips. '' ** _Tais-toi_**.'' He said once again, firmer this time.

''I didn't say anything.'' She protested, but it didn't stop her from continuing anyway. ''How long exactly has it been for you?''

'' _Too_ long.''

''When was the last time?'' She pried further. When he offered no response, she started to move her hand away from his trousers, which was followed by him grabbing her wrist to keep it there, whimpering. ''Tell me.'' She demanded again, brushing her fingers against the head of his length in encouragement, eliciting a beautiful, thick moan from him.

''Three months ago. When we-''

'' _Wait_.'' She cut him off, actually pulling away this time, causing him to groan in agony, restraining the urge to just take her against the drawer set. ''Are you saying you haven't had sex since the last time we spent the night together?'' She asked, in disbelief, to which he eventually nodded in response. ''No wonder you're so desperate. How come you haven't-''

''I just haven't had the time.'' He dismissed, sounding sheepish. He knew he was lying through his teeth, but he didn't even remotely care. This was definitely not the time for this conversation.

''That is not an excuse. I've seen you sit in taverns for hours with women who are all over you. You could have your pick of the whole Court, maybe even some of the men.'' She giggled, and Clopin just rolled his eyes in response. She joked about his sexuality frequently, mostly because she saw how uninterested he seemed to be in the women he courted. She knew this wasn't really the case, however, she just liked to tease him. She was partially right though, he probably could have his pick of anyone in the Court. He was the King, after all, plenty of women would come running at the thought of being Queen.

But none of them would be Esmeralda.

''So what have you been doing this whole time?'' She asked, pulling him from his thoughts again, suddenly looking abashed.

''Can we talk about this later?'' He practically begged, the tightness of his trousers starting to become extremely uncomfortable.

''Oh, I know.'' She said, her expression smug, watching him with arched brows. ''You've been touching yourself, haven't you?''

'' ** _I have not_** -''

''Yes you have, I can see it all over your face.'' She laughs, having to bite her lip when she saw the glare he was giving her. ''Oh please, it's only natural. I could just never imagine you doing something like that.'' She slid her hand down his stomach again and into his trousers, fingers wrapping around him once more, his eyelids flickering in bliss.

''Es-''

''Show me how you like it.'' She whispered, locking onto his eyes. He looked surprised at the request, opening his dry mouth instantly to protest, but she placed her finger against his lips before he could. ''Sh, don't speak, just show me.'' She demanded, and Clopin swallowed hard to get rid of the lump in his throat. It was only ever her that could reduce him to this blubbering mess, and he loved it. Her confident nature was one of the many things he found so unbelievably sexy about her, her ability to stay self-assured in all her actions. He also knew he wasn't going to get out of doing it; she always got her own way, especially with him. He dared not even think about the consequences if he denied her.

Clopin's hand moved from her waist and found her own in his trousers, intertwining their fingers to wrap around the length of himself. He didn't hesitate, not sure where he'd found the confidence, but he moved her hand along with his own in a firm and fast pace, losing his breath almost instantly and tilting his head back with a groan. Esmeralda took advantage of this and leaned forwards to place several kisses on his neck, and, knowing he liked a bit of pain, made sure to add a few bites here and there. This, with her perfect rhythm along his length, left him a mess.

''But you-'' He tried, words failing him.

''Never mind me.'' She whispered back softly. ''We're just focusing on you, _for now_.'' She spoke the last words with dark intention, and Clopin suddenly came to the understanding that she had a lot more planned than he was aware of. His hand moved to grip the drawers instead, now that Es had picked up on the pace, using them to keep him upright in fear of collapsing. His breathing was becoming heavier by the second and he was mumbling incoherently.

''Faster, _now_.'' She made out through the mumbles, his demand making her shiver, as she obeyed silently. Clopin was practically thrusting himself into her hand, unable to help it, finding himself tipping slowly over the edge.

''Esme... I can't hold on much longer.'' He gritted out, the pleasure intense to the point where white spots were beginning to fill up his vision and he was so close, but he didn't want it to be over already.

''Then don't.''

''But I want you-''

''And you will have me.'' She reassured. ''We're not even close to being done yet. We have three whole months to make up for.'' She giggled softly, placing a kiss on his earlobe. His head tilted in pleasure and with that he came hard, shuddering in front of her as his legs threatened to give in, the intensity of his release almost knocking him over. He let out a shaky gasp, moaning in pure ecstasy, his forehead leaning against hers as he tried to catch his breath. Barely seconds passed before he suddenly returned his lips to her own, kissing her hungrily, finding his strength again as he picked her up from the drawers and sat her on his waist. She made a hum of approval as he did, arms around his waist as she let him walk her them back towards the bed before he pressed her down against it once more. She gasped in surprise and glee, feeling the exhilaration building as he took her wrists and pinned them above her head.

'' _My turn_.'' He whispered darkly, and the tone of his voice caused Esmeralda to shudder beneath him, allowing him to take control. He kissed down her neck and body, over her breasts, his long hair and beard brushing against her skin and tickling her ever so slightly. He worshipped every inch of her body with his hands and lips, tracing every curve and line, and she smiled to herself, feeling like some kind of Goddess.

Esmeralda's eyes and hands began to wander his own body curiously as if wondering if it had changed in the past few months. Besides from a few new nicks and scratches here and there, no doubt from fights between the King's Guard, he looked more or less the same. Plenty of scars from old battle injuries covered the entirety of his chest and torso, and there were marks on his wrists where bounds had been tightly wrapped around them. None of them made him feel any kind of insecurity, however, and he had no reason to let them. He was, by all accounts, beautiful. The only thing he really despised, and she knew he did, was the branded mark of a cross just above his hip bone. It was a mark he had been branded with in his youth and wasn't something he liked to think about, and so he quite often pretended it wasn't there. She respected this, the memory of that day was painful for the both of them.

Clopin looked up at her again and she quickly moved her gaze away from it and met his eyes, giving him a small and reassuring smile. He took this as confirmation that she was ready, and moved his hands to his trousers to pull the remainder of them away, so when he pressed himself to her again, there was nothing but skin between them. Clopin savoured the moment, just being with her like this was the best feeling in the world, nothing else compared to having her pressed against him this way. He wanted it to last forever, to sear it into his brain so he could never forget. But, of course, like every time, it would eventually come to an end. His confidence momentarily faltered as the dreaded feeling rose in his chest, and he took a breath to push it down, pushing them aside for the time being. She was here with him now, that's what mattered. It's what he needed.

''Take me, my King.'' She suddenly whispered beneath him, causing his thoughts to be chased away as she encouraged him, not sure how much longer she could wait for him. ''I am yours, have me.'' She pleaded, legs shifting to wrap around him and press their bodies closer together. Clopin shivered at the words she spoke, his mind racing, entertaining the possibility that maybe this was what she needed too.

He wasted no more time, grabbing her hips with singular purpose as he pushed himself against her, shaking just from being _so close_. He sunk himself into her slowly, hissing in relief as he did, as Esmeralda's entire body pulsed up towards him, a shuddering moans escaping her lips as he pushed in all the way. He leant over her, their foreheads touching, pressed together perfectly as Clopin started to move into her at a steady pace, the pair moaning in unison out of desperation for each other.

As he began to move, Clopin suddenly couldn't contain all the sensations inside of him, every fibre of his being feeling elevated and his mind free from all the week's problems and focused completely on her. How was it possible for one person to make everything okay again? Nothing mattered anymore when he was with her; he didn't care about the King and his Soldiers, he didn't care about all the potential danger around them, he only cared about her and the joy she brought him. Even if it was all completely one-sided, these few nights of pleasure and intimacy were enough to keep him going for however long he needed to. He could do anything, as long as she was by his side.

She moaned beneath him beautifully, her head thrown back against the pillows and her eyes screwed so tightly shut that her nose crinkled in a positively adorable manner. She pressed fingers into his back, encouraging him to pick up his pace, not hesitating to drag her nails along his skin and cause his mind to go blank. He complied silently, building up a rapid speed, and it wasn't long before Esmeralda was practically screaming for the whole Court to hear as Clopin finally tipped her over the edge.

''Oh, _God_! Clopin!-'' Es cried, her back arched to the point where she looked as she might break. Clopin followed suit only moments later, his whole body shaking in pleasure as he let out a guttural moan.

''Esme, _fuck_...'' He muttered, not even aware he'd cursed. They both collapsed against other, their breathing heavy, feeling the warmth of each other. Esmeralda basked quietly in the afterglow of it all, a fine sheen of sweat covering her body, unruly hair spread across the pillows. Clopin leaned up tiredly and managed a small smirk, his head tilting in fondness.

''You know, for an entity you don't actually believe in, you use God's name a _lot_ when you're with me.'' He chuckled deeply, nothing like his usual high pitched laugh, much warmer. It made Esmeralda laugh too, and she had to push the hair out of her face to look up at him.

''And you hardly ever curse like that, except when you're with me.'' She pointed out, to which he nodded.

''Touche, _mon cher_.'' He smiled, slumping down beside her on the bed, exhaustion finally beginning to creep up on him. She leant up onto her side, looking down at him and drawing lazy patterns on his chest.

''Do you feel any better now?''

''Better than ever.'' He reassured, lifting a hand to brush some hair behind her ear fondly. She blushed gently, inclining her face into his touch and kissing the palm of his hand.

''I certainly enjoyed myself.'' She teased softly, and he grinned in response, feeling pride wash over him before he could stop himself. She considered him briefly, before seeming to come to some sort of decision in her head, and leant down and pressed her lips to his softly. He blinked, the kiss taking him off guard, but he certainly didn't complain. He returned it lovingly and missed the softness of her lips as soon as she pulled away. She lay her head against his chest, cuddling close to him as Clopin pulled the sheets over them both.

''Can I stay here tonight?'' She whispered quietly, eyes already closed, and probably ready to stay even if he said no - which wasn't going to happen.

''Of course, my dear. You needn't even ask.'' He smiled tiredly, closing his own eyes as he leant his head against hers. Without another world, they were both fast asleep in each other's embrace, content and safe from the world outside. _For now, at least_.

* * *

 **Author's Notes:**

\- I've tried to stick to historical accuracy as much as possible, but if there are a few mistakes I'm sorry, but I did try my best to research! As for the cigarettes, I know they weren't really a thing in 1482, but I've always had an image of Clopin being a chain smoker.

\- When I originally wrote this it was purely for fun and I didn't think anyone was ever going to read it, so any mistakes are my own fault and I apologise.

\- Clopin is 25 and Esmeralda is 20 in this story. I know Clopin is supposed to be a lot older, but considering the age expectancy in the 1400's was 35, then technically 25 is old. Besides, I was basing him off of the Musical version's Clopin, who looks only a little older than Esmeralda.

\- Clopin is borderline depressed, though he is not aware of it, nor is anyone else.

\- Clopin and Esmeralda are basically, for lack of better terminology, fuck buddies. It just so happens that Clopin is secretly in love with Esmeralda.

\- Clopin and the other Romani have only been set up in the Court for about 5/4 years, and not as long as they have been in the film.

 **French Translations (According to Google Translate):**

 _\- Monde_ \- World

 _\- Cherie_ \- Sweetheart

 _\- Mon Cher_ \- My dear

 _\- Mademoiselle_ \- Miss

 _\- Mon amour_ \- My love

 _\- Tais-toi_ \- Shut up

 **Thank you for reading!**


	2. Réminiscence

**Title:** Story of a Gypsy King

 **Summary:** Life is never easy for the King of the Truands, but a well-timed joke and the finest girl in France never fails to bring him joy in this dark little world. A slightly twisted version of the Hunchback story with our favourite jester as the main character. Rated M for lemon and graphic depictions of torture in later chapters. Clopin/Esmeralda.

 **Characters:** Clopin Trouillefou, La Esmeralda (pairing)

 **Genre:** Hurt/Comfort, Romance

 **Author's Notes and French Translations at the end, enjoy!**

* * *

 **CHAPTER TWO: Reminiscence**

The distant sound of people going about their morning routines started to spread through the Court. Cutlery hitting plates, adults and children waking up to start the day, and the faint smell of bread and croissants beginning to waft through into Clopin's tent on top of the steps. He drew in a large breath, his stomach rumbling at him hungrily, and half wondered what time it was. Usually, he was up and about long before breakfast was served, checking everything was in order for the day.

Today, however, it could wait. The beautiful woman sleeping on his chest was enough to keep his mind preoccupied for now, and would continue to do so until she woke up.

Her breath was warm against his skin, almost comforting, and her chest rose and fell steadily in her comfortable slumber. If Clopin thought she was pretty when she was awake, it was nothing compared to the still beauty she held whilst she slept. It seemed impossible for someone to be so perfect, but she was, especially in his eyes. It was these moments that he tried so hard to sear into his memories; the moments where everything was calm and she was there beside him, the few times he actually felt content and stress-free. It had been months since she'd slept beside him like this and he had no idea when the next time would be, so he would savour every second.

It was rare he gave himself this time to relax. He knew that if Esmeralda were not there with him he would only be focusing on all of his problems, which wasn't exactly a healthy thing to be doing 24/7, but he couldn't help it. There was so much happening and as much as Esmeralda had tried to ease his mind from it all, it would come flooding back instantly after she left. This was the calm before the storm.

He huffed at himself in annoyance as he realised he was letting his mind wander, bringing himself back to reality, only to realise that the movement of his stomach had caused Esmeralda to finally stir, much to his dismay. Her eyelashes tickled against his skin as her eyes opened, arms and legs beginning to stretch out as she slowly woke up from her deep sleep. Green eyes darted around the room, adjusting to her surroundings, before finally looking over at him to see who she was sharing a bed with. The sleepy expression on her face was nothing more than adorable, and he couldn't help but smile when he saw it.

' _Bonjour, Cherie_.' He whispered quietly, not wanting to startle her too much. A smile slowly graced her lips as the memory of the night came flooding back to her, and she lowered her head back to his chest, arms wrapping around him.

'Good morning.' She mumbled sleepily, relaxing as she felt gentle fingers carding through her untamed hair, which she didn't doubt could send her back to sleep again easily.

'Sleep well?'

'Amazingly well, you?'

'Best sleep I've had in days.' He smiled, which was the truth. Though he may not have slept for as long as he would have liked, it was still the best sleep he'd had since he passed out in the tavern last week. Besides, his earlier awakening had meant that he could spend some quiet time with her beside him, which had only lifted his mood further.

'Glad I could help.' She teased, smug, letting her fingers dance across his chest and up to his face where she messed with his beard, considering him thoughtfully. 'You certainly look a lot better, but you should get some more sleep later on, and get something to eat.'

'I don't disagree, I could certainly eat right about now.' He chuckled heartily, 'Will you join me?'

'Better yet, I'll bring it to you. Breakfast in bed is what you deserve.' She smirked, bopping his nose with her finger before pulling herself up into a sitting position. The covers fell down her body until all her flesh was suddenly exposed to him, reminding him that she wasn't wearing any clothes beneath the blanket, and he couldn't help but let his eyes wander down all the bare skin in front of him. He felt a lump forming in his throat and had to collect himself for a moment, meeting her eyes once again.

'No, that's not necessary. We can just-' He cut off as he heard distant shouts from somewhere outside, the sound of rushed footprints coming from the stairwell that led up to his tent and his name being called urgently. He sat up instantly, frowning at the sudden noise as he felt himself panic. After all, no one ever came to him with good news, he could only imagine what he was about to hear. Though, after this past week, things couldn't get much worse.

He untangled himself from Esmeralda in an attempt to get up, but a young man suddenly bursting into his tent made him quickly scurry back underneath the sheets to cover his dignity, his own eyes almost as wide as they boys who had emerged in his tent. His cheeks were bright red and his chest heaved from the apparent running he had been doing, having to bend and lean on his knees in an attempt to catch his breath.

'Clopin! You have to come quickly, there's been a- _**Oh**_!' He cut off straight away as he saw the sight before him, Esmeralda's half-naked form sat up in bed and Clopin's messy and startled appearance beside her, both unable to help the unimpressed expressions that formed on their faces. The redness of the boy's cheeks suddenly deepened, turning a lovely crimson shade as the embarrassment set in. 'I-I apologise, I didn't mean to burst in like that, I'll wait outside.'

'Don't be silly, Jean.' Esmeralda spoke up, her tone reassuring, clearly hoping to settle the poor lad's nerves. Clopin only looked up at her in surprise, but also realised that she hadn't even bothered to cover herself up, not phased by the amount of skin that was on show to this stranger. He could hear his teeth grinding, but there was nothing he could say. They weren't committed to each other, there was no reason for him to be annoyed with other people seeing her this way. Esmeralda was one of the most desirable women in the Court, some men wanted her more than their own wives. She had certainly engaged in her fair amount of flings and one night stands, there was no doubt plenty of the Court's men had seen her this way, and she was hardly ashamed of it, nor did she need to be.

Clopin wasn't sure where the anger came from. Perhaps it was because the young girl he'd raised and nurtured was suddenly a young woman with her own needs and urges. Perhaps it was because he knew what the male race was like, what they wanted from her, and he wanted to protect her from that. Or, and the most likely, perhaps it was because of all the men and scoundrels she chose to have dalliances with, none of them desired or loved her as much as _he_ did.

Jean cleared his throat and Clopin abruptly remembered he was there, finally turning his head back to him. He shifted his weight from one leg to another, looking lost, not sure if he should stay or leave. Clopin decided to make the decision for him.

'What's going on?' He asked, knowing it must be serious for him to just barge in, which hardly ever happened unless it was an emergency.

'W-Well, Hanzi and Luca took some of the men out last night to try and gather some food from a delivery that we tracked to the Palace. We expected them to return around midnight, but there's no sign of them.' He said slowly, his head hung. Clopin sat up more, looking extremely troubled by the news. Esmeralda felt him tense up beside her and sought his hand out through the sheets, taking it into her own hand and squeezing it gently.

'Has anyone been out to look for them?' He asked.

'We went out this morning. The town cryer was in the main square, and he read out a proclamation that several Gypsies had been caught trying to steal from the King, and they were to be executed at midday.' Jean said, voice heavy with despair, wringing his hands behind his back. 'It has to be Hanzi and Luca, and their group. No one else is missing.'

Clopin rubbed his temples and carded a hand through his hair as he racked his brain, trying to think what they could possibly do. If it were simply some stocks in the city, that would be easy, they could get them out in mere seconds without anyone noticing, but this was the Palace of Justice. It meant the King's Soldiers guarding every side of the square in case of any interruptions. It meant an audience of Louis' advisors and Court members who would all flock eagerly to the Palace to see the Romani they despised so much have their neck's broken. It meant any rescue plan they could possibly conjure up would be stupid and dangerous.

However, Clopin was nothing if not reckless.

'Alright.' He finally said, 'Gather whatever remaining men we have, we won't let them die.'

'You have a plan?' Jean asked, his eyes lit up hopefully.

'Yes, now _va vite_ and waste no time. I shall meet you shortly.'

'Yes, sir!' He shouted, bowing clumsily to him before bounding out of the tent once again, his footstep growing quieter as he descended the stairs. Clopin let out a groan as he pulled himself up from the bed, grabbing his trousers from the floor where he'd carelessly discarded them last night and pulled them on. He could feel Esmeralda's eyes burning into the back of his head but decided against addressing it. After all, he knew what she was going to say.

'You don't have a plan, do you?' She asked, matter-of-factly.

( _He was right._ )

'I'll make it up as I go along.' He played off, flashing her a grin. 'I always do.'

'Clo, you need to be careful. This is the Palace of Justice, you know the King will-'

'Esmeralda, the King is on his last legs. He's not going to risk his health for one minor execution.' He smiled up at her, hoping she wouldn't see through his own facade. 'Stop worrying so much, we've done plenty of things riskier than this. We'll get them out of there with no trouble.' He reassured, grabbing his shirt from the other side of the room - ( _how did it get over there?_ ) - and pulled it over his shoulders. There was a long silence that followed, in which Esmeralda just watched him in disbelief. He didn't blame her, not even he believed his own false bravado. He crossed to the drawers, sheathing a dagger and a long sword into his belt, along with a few smoke bombs for good measure.

Es felt her eyes rolling automatically as he did; he couldn't do anything without adding his own dramatic flair. Though it was one of the qualities she loved about him, he brought joy to even the more dire situations. She briefly remembered the first mission she had ever gone out with him on, she must have been only fifteen at the time, where she'd watched a soldier run him through him with a dagger. She'd nearly collapsed just at the sight of his blood, but Clopin had simply locked eyes with the man and proceeded to deliver the _worst_ joke she had ever heard him utter.

 _'That wasn't very_ _ **knife**_ _of you.'_

She could have sworn she'd seen the Soldier laugh before Clopin killed him.

'Are you going to be alright?' She asked, bringing herself back to the present moment. 'You're not exactly in your best condition.' She pointed out, watching him as he grabbed his hat from the side and fixed it on top of his head. He spun himself around elegantly to face her, that annoying fake grin sprawled across his face.

'You wound me, _Cherie_! This body is in the best shape of its life!' He joked, jovial as ever as he pocketed the remainder of his things before heading confidently to the exit. 'I shall see you soon, _with_ our missing men.'

'Clopin?' She called quickly, jumping up from the bed with the blanket wrapped around herself. He stopped, turning to face her again as she approached him.

' _Oui_?'

'Be careful. Please.' She warned softly, her tone more serious this time, as she stepped over to him and placed a singular kiss on his cheek. He opened his mouth, no doubt to make some witty comment, before deciding against it and simply nodding once.

'I will.' He promised, staying for a moment, and then turned swiftly and walked out without another word, heading down the steps towards the Court. She let out a long sigh, shaking her head as she watched him descend, a fond expression appearing on her face.

'Silly man.' She whispered quietly to herself, before moving back into the tent to get herself ready for the day.

* * *

Esmeralda had spent the day listening to the gossip and rumours that had stretched through the Court like wildfire. None of them were good, and none of them helped to settle her already uneasy mind. The word of Clopin's assault on the Palace had started to spread as soon as he had left, people talking about how it was an impossible feat, other's saying how not even Clopin could pull it off, and a select few, whom Esmeralda had briefly considered maiming, talking about selecting a new King in case he didn't return. It was upon hearing this that she'd shut herself away in her caravan, deciding she didn't need to hear any more. Clopin was more than capable of looking after himself and others; that had already been proven thrice over. He was a brilliant swordsman and a master of stealth and illusion. Even if they did get caught, he would find a way to get them out of harm's way.

Once she was inside her caravan, she slumped down at her desk tiredly, removing her earrings and other jewels. It seemed inappropriate to be so dressed up on a day like this. If she needed to entertain, she would do so once she knew they were safe. Even her clothes seemed too obnoxious right now, and so she quickly yanked off her dress as well and threw her shoes behind her somewhere. She winced when one of them hit her nightstand and knocked several things off of it, clearly the rumours she had been hearing through the day had been getting to her more than she thought.

She began to pick the things up off of the ground and rearrange them on her nightstand, and as she caught a glimpse of one of the books that had fallen. It was old; the spine was bent and the front of it was covered with a good layer of dust that clung to her fingertips when she picked it up. The letters had faded with age and lack of care, but she still remembered the title clearly - ' _The Canterbury Tales_ '. It was one of the first books that Clopin had ever brought her when he was teaching her to read. She still remembered all of the stories; ' _The Knight's Tale_ ', ' _The Miller's Tale_ ', every single one of them had been read to her countless times, by Clopin himself and occasionally by his mother. She found herself smiling as she looked it over, all the memories of them sat around the firelight reading together coming back to her. She stroked the spine gently, they hadn't looked at it in years, she would have to show him later. That is _if_ he came back...

She mentally kicked herself, reminding herself to stay optimistic, nothing good ever came from overthinking things. She placed the book down on the dressing table and turned her attention to her wardrobe, spotting a plain cream coloured dress. It was a little bland compared to the gowns and skirts she usually wore, but right now she didn't mind. She pulled it on and tied it around herself, and fixed her hair back into a ponytail and readjusted her headband. Grabbing the book, she tucked it under her arm and headed outside once again.

As soon as she stepped out, her attention turned to the front of the Court, where practically everyone was gathered, talking amongst themselves rapidly and excitedly. _They must have returned_.

She picked up the skirt of her dress and ran over to join the crowd as quickly as she could, reaching the back of the group and leaning up onto her tiptoes to see the men on the platform. Hanzi and Luca were both there, along with their squadron, all looking pretty well done in, but cheery to be back. Clopin's little troupe were all there too, their swords bloodstained, their clothes dirty and a little turn. They looked like they'd definitely been through a lot to get the other's back. She paused when she realised there was no sign of Clopin anywhere. She couldn't see him in the huddle of people, nor on the platform in front. She turned to look at the rest of the Court anxiously, her heart pounding in her ears.

A sudden and loud bang from the stage at the front made her return her attention to the platform, as the Gypsy King himself appeared in the centre of the stage in a puff of purple smoke. He laughed and grinned as the crowd cheered, gathering around the stage eagerly to hear about his adventure. Esmeralda would have sighed in relief if she didn't find herself rolling her eyes first. She should have known. He always loved to make a dramatic entrance.

'Gather round, folks! This one is quite the tale!' He announced heartily, as children came and sat on the stairs and timber, even adults cramping in to hear the story of the latest skirmish between the King of Truands and the King of France. Esme couldn't help but smile to herself. She was convinced that even if he'd lost his limbs, he would still retell the tale with a laugh and some colourful imagination, if not just to see the children smile.

She decided she wasn't in the mood for storytime, especially since she was positive most of it would be lies anyway, sprinkled with enough theatrics to make the tale believable. It was at the exact moment she made the decision to leave that Clopin turned towards her, finding her in the crowd. They made eye contact for a brief moment before she flashed a small smile to him and turned to leave, heading back towards her caravan. There was a hum of silence before she heard him carry on with his story without hesitation, his sing-song voice echoing through the Court along with the cheers of the crowd. He was most likely confused, usually Esmeralda loved to hear his stories just as much as the next person, but after all the worrying and stress of the day, the only thing she wanted now was the comfort and silence of her caravan.

She paused just outside her small home and knelt down by the pit, starting up a fire there, as she suddenly realised the temperature had dropped substantially on her walk from the main settlement. The timber was alight in no time, burning pleasantly in front of her. She immediately felt much better, the warmth of the flames hitting her and taking the chill off of her skin. She glanced down at the book that she still had in her hands from earlier on, and half wondered if Clopin would stop by tonight. With everything that had happened, he probably had a lot of work to do and things to check on, but they'd all looked pretty disgruntled from the encounter... perhaps he would take the night off. She hoped he would, anyway.

Leaving the book outside, she headed into the caravan to gather some things just in case he did come by. She had saved her rations from lunch, knowing he probably would have 'forgotten' to eat before heading out on the rescue mission, and had brought them back to her caravan in a small basket and hidden it away from prying eyes. Though she was sure no one would take it if they saw it, rations were beginning to get pretty slim lately, and there was no telling what people would do once they began getting desperate. She felt around under her bed and was relieved to find it still there, pulling the hamper out along with a bottle of wine she'd found there too. Clopin would be happy to get some alcohol in him, she was sure.

She stood up again with the basket and bottle and turned to move back outside, but stopped immediately when she saw the man in question standing in the doorway watching her. The noise she made was almost inhuman, crying out with a start and nearly throwing the bottle in her hand at him. He instantly ducked down, bringing his hands up to cover his face. From past experiences, and there had been many, he had no doubt she would actually throw the bottle at him if prompted. She took a large breath, her heart hammering as she ( _thankfully_ ) lowered the wine once again.

'I've told you _not_ to do that!' She scowled at him, a hand on her chest, trying to recover from the scare.

'My apologies, _Cherie_ , I didn't mean to startle you.' He apologised, though he was smirking, finding it a lot more amusing than she was. His years of stealing and running from the law had made him remarkably light on his feet, to the point where his footsteps were practically silent. It was impressive without a doubt, but not when she was the one being snuck up on. She thought he would have learned his lesson after she had punched him one time and left him with a sizable bruise around his left eye that had lasted for two weeks, but apparently, he still enjoyed doing it. She half wondered if it was too late to throw the bottle at him.

'You finished your story pretty fast.' She pointed out, finally recovered enough to regain her composure. 'I take it that's a good sign?'

'A grand one. The plan ran smoothly without a hitch.'

'Really? You had no trouble?'

'A little scrap with some soldiers, but otherwise nothing.' He smiled, arching a brow towards her. 'Honestly, and you thought we couldn't pull it off.' He chimed sarcastically, clearly pleased with himself. If she didn't know he was joking, she really would have thrown the bottle at him that time.

'That's only because I was worried about you.' She rolled her eyes, placing the things down on the bed, turning her back to him. His own smirk faded as it dawned on him that his joking may have been badly timed; this probably wasn't the best moment for his flippancy. So he stepped closer to her and put a hand on her shoulder to turn her around again.

'I'm only teasing you, Esme. I know you were worried, but I'm fine.' He reassured, holding out his arms to show his good faith. 'See?' He beamed widely at her, hoping the silly gesture would cheer her up even just a little. She watched him silently for a moment before a small smile broke across her face, and she nodded reluctantly. Regardless of their joking, she really had been worried about him, and it was good to see him. She took advantage of his outspread arms to move forward and wrap her own around his waist, burying her face in his chest to hug him tightly. At the gesture, he sucked in a sharp breath and winced, and she immediately pulled away once again, arching a brow up at him.

'That didn't sound fine to me.' She mused, scanning his body for a sign of an injury. He waved it off, that annoying grin back on his face again.

'A simple scratch, nothing more.'

'I'm not an idiot, Clo. Show me, now.' She ordered, hardly in the mood for his theatrics. He hesitated, and for a second she thought he would just leave instead, but slowly he brought his hands to the fabric of his shirt and pulled it up. It revealed bandages that he'd wrapped around his middle, blood staining the area that had been inflicted on his lower abdomen. Her expression became grave as she looked over the plaster, moving closer to trace her fingers along it.

'How?' She asked softly, bringing her eyes up to his again.

'They had archers, I didn't see them.' He admitted reluctantly, 'I wasn't quick enough when the first arrow was released.' Esmeralda watched him momentarily, hearing the frustration in his tone. She lowered her head again to check the bandages, making sure they were tight enough, before stepping away with a sigh.

'Well, the bandages look secure. I won't pester you about it, as long as you promise to take care of the wound.' She said, giving him a warning look.

'You have my word.' He smiled simply and gave her a flourished bow, graceful as ever even with the injury at his side, acting as if it were merely a paper cut. She was sure that stubbornness of his was going to get him killed one day if his jokes didn't first.

'Did you manage to eat before you left?' She asked, arching a brow at him. He hesitated before opening his mouth to reply. 'That's a no then.' She dismissed, turning back towards the bed to gather all the things she'd put there beforehand, holding them up towards him with a smugness she couldn't contain. 'It's a good thing I kept some from lunch then, isn't it?' She smiled, complacent, before brushing past him before he could even acknowledge it, heading outside once again. Clopin couldn't help the smirk on his face, shaking his head in disbelief as he followed her out to the firepit.

' _Merde_ , you really do think of everything, don't you?' He admired, watching as she pulled up two chairs beside the fire, handing him the bottle of wine and opening the basket of bread and grapes before they both took their seats opposite one another.

'I had a good teacher.' She noted, eyeing him. 'Unfortunately, he was old and swore a lot. Not to mention his unhealthy obsession with puppets.'

'Excuse me, I am only five years older than you, you were a pain in the _derrière_ , and the puppets were the only thing that ever stopped you crying.' He said, defensively, munching on a few grapes he'd popped into his mouth.

'What can I say? You do the best puppet shows.' She smiled, which he was clearly happy to hear, practically beaming at the comment. She paused as she remembered the book she had found earlier, looking around and spotting it where she'd left it, leaning down to pick it up. 'I found this today.' She said quietly, holding it out towards him, half wondering if he would even remember it himself. He glanced at it, frowning momentarily before his eyes widened as he took it into his own hands.

'Oh, _mon Dieu_! I haven't seen this in years...' He exclaimed in delight, stroking the spine of the book gently just like she had. 'I thought I'd lost it during the last evacuation.'

'Actually, I've had it all this time.' She said and he looked up at her in surprise. 'It's been on my bookshelf gathering dust, I must have forgotten it was there somehow.' She blushed in embarrassment, taking a bite of her bread.

'You were so young, I'm surprised you even remember this.' He tilted his head at her, looking genuinely shocked. She saw this and only looked back at him in confusion.

'I... How could I forget? It was all we used to read. You read it to me every night.' She paused, smiling down at the fire. 'I used to not understand the stories very well, which is when you got the idea to read them through with puppets. You thought it would be a good way to teach and entertain me at the same time, and then you ended up enjoying doing it just as much as I enjoyed watching.' She reminisced, remembering the way his eyes would light up as he got into a story, every inch of his energy going into making the puppets as lifelike as possible for her, changing his voice for every single character as if they all lived inside his mind. It had been amazingly impressive, and it still was to this day. She still found herself occasionally watching the shows he put on for the children nowadays, and it was still just as amusing and interesting as it was when she had been young.

She collected herself when she realised she had just been absently staring at the fire in memory, clearing her throat and hiding the blush on her cheeks. He was still watching her, and suddenly he orientated his whole body towards her, leaning forward against his knees, no longer interested in the food or wine.

'What else do you remember?' He asked, seeming intrigued. She looked surprised, taking a moment to think about it.

'I remember... the day you found me. I was sitting underneath a bakery door after the baker had just kicked me out for asking for food. You saw the whole thing and spent the last of your money buying me a bread roll. You brought me to the caravans and snuck me in without the others knowing, and gave me your bed. You said you would sleep somewhere else but I woke in the night and saw you sleeping on the floor.' She smiled fondly, looking up at him.

'You brought your rations back to the caravan and shared them with me, always giving me the bigger half of your plate. And when your parents finally discovered me there, you convinced them to let me stay and promised you would look after me, let me share your caravan with you. You stayed up with me every night when it was too dark, when it was raining too loud, when I'd had a bad dream, and stayed until I fell asleep. You refused to leave me alone when I was upset until I smiled. You took beatings and lashings for me when I had done something wrong, always taking the blame. You-' She cut herself off when she heard a pained noise come from Clopin's direction, looking at him, worried his bandage may have come loose. She blinked in surprise, however, to see he was still watching her, with a large smile that reached his eyes that were... wet, with tears.

He was _crying_.

'Clopin!' She stood up quickly, moving and kneeling in front of him, taking his hands. 'What's the matter? Did I say something wrong?'

'Ah, quite the opposite, my dear.' He reassured, wiping away the wetness with his sleeve, smiling down at her. 'Forgive me, I'm being silly. I just didn't realise you remembered any of that, you've never mentioned it before.' He laughed softly, watching her with admiration.

She frowned, looking down at their intertwined hands. It suddenly occurred to her that she had never once thanked him for it all, never taken the time to truly appreciate all the things he'd done for her, however small they were. She felt a wave of disgust at herself, how selfish she had been.

'Are you alright?' He asked softly, noticing the look on her face.

'I just... I never said thank you, did I?'

'For what?'

'For _everything_.' She said, looking up at him, bringing her hands to his face carefully. 'I am so sorry, Clo. You have done more for me than anyone ever has. You have always put me first, even at times when you shouldn't have. I could never show you how much I appreciate everything you've done for me. I _love_ you for it.' She whispered, taking his hands once again and kissing the back of them.

He looked down at her, hating the pang he suddenly felt in his chest at her words. What he would give to be able to grab her and kiss her in this moment, tell her how much she meant to him, how much he loved her. But, alas, his courage never came to him, and he knew it wouldn't.

'You don't have to thank me.' He finally settled on saying, a smile coming to his lips as he looked at her. 'You have done just as much for me, if not more. I was lucky to find such a rare emerald under that _boulangerie_ all those years ago.' He chuckled softly, as Esmeralda looked up at him, now tearful herself.

'Thank you, Clopin.' She managed, voice shaking. He smiled fondly, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her against his chest gently as she curled into him, just like she did when she was younger. He kissed the top of her head gently, rubbing her back.

'The pleasure is mine, _Cherie_.' He whispered quietly, holding her close to him. They spent several minutes like this before he suddenly felt her weight press against him a little more, and he smiled to himself. He didn't even have to look at her to know she was asleep. He sighed fondly, carefully untangling her arms from him and managing to scoop her up into his own. It didn't agree with him, a searing pain shooting up his side from his recent injury, but he ignored it. He took her inside the caravan, and laid her down carefully on the bed, arranging the pillows and covering her with the blanket to make her more comfortable. He chuckled quietly to himself, she may have grown, but she was still the same young girl sleeping on the bakery step. He leant over carefully and kissed her cheek softly, before drawing himself up again to look down at her.

'Sleep well, little Esme.' He whispered, stepping away and watching her for a long moment as she slept peacefully. He took a breath and collected himself again, stepping out of the caravan once more, shutting the door behind him. He tidied all of the things away, putting the fire out and, of course, taking the bottle of wine for himself as he walked off into the distance of the Court, singing to himself as he went.

* * *

After patrolling the Court for another hour, Clopin rechecked the entrance ways and sealed them up, deeming their sanctuary safe for another night. He sighed in contentment, sitting down on the steps of the platform in the main settlement, finishing the last drop of wine from the bottle. He felt a little dizzy, but that was to be expected, besides it was good to know that alcohol was having an effect on him again. He leant back against the stairs, looking up at the ceiling of mud and dirt, panicking for a second when he could see no stars, and then laughed at himself once he realised _why_ there were no stars. It was safe to say he'd officially drank too much this time. He reached into his pocket and withdrew a cigarette from the packet there, lighting it and popping it into his mouth. He watched the smoke rise and circle into the air, disappearing like magic. In his drunken state, it was fascinating.

Having enough sense left in him to realise it was probably time to turn in, he pulled himself to his feet and started heading in the direction of his tent, stumbling over his own feet every now and then. As he drew closer to his tent, however, he heard the sound of loud laughing and cheering coming from somewhere close by, and upon investigation, saw a large group of people still drinking and partying in one of the nearby caravans. Usually, he would scold people for staying up this late, past the preferred curfew hours, but right now he could not care less. He made his way over, and everyone immediately stopped as they spotted him, the laughter ceasing and the talking reducing to a faint whisper. Clopin stood in front of the large group, who were all sat on the steps and pulled out tables, and watched them all with narrowed eyes.

'What's going on here?' He asked, sternly, miraculously managing to keep himself from slurring all of his words. One of the men, who Clopin recognised as one of his troupe members, Stefan, pulled himself up from the table and cleared his throat awkwardly.

'I, uh- with all due respect, Sir, it's been a long day for us all. With the encounter at the Palace earlier, we all thought we could use some rest and recreation.' He laughed but stopped himself when Clopin didn't even break a smile. 'I-I hope that's alright.' He added, anxiously, watching for any sort of emotion to appear on his face. Clopin took a breath, taking a single step forward as he held out his arms wide and grinned.

' _Thai mol piyas_!' He shouted, laughing loudly, which was followed by several cheers, people applauding loudly before they went back about their business. Stefan stepped forward, handing him an uncorked bottle with a flourished bow. Clopin tipped an imaginary hat to him in thanks, before taking a seat amongst the other men from his troupe, taking a long swig from the wine. Hanzi, who sat beside him, had one of the many girls sitting on his lap, her arm wrapped around him as they messed around together. When he noticed Clopin sitting next to him, he punched his arm with a grin.

'Clopin! Have you met Florica here?' He laughed drunkenly, kneeing her off of his lap gently and she giggled as she fell into Clopin, who looked surprised by the sudden close proximity of the woman. He managed to compose himself, as he wrapped an arm around the blushing maiden, smirking up at her.

'I've had the pleasure a few times.' He chuckled, as she messed with his hair idly. This sort of thing wasn't uncommon. He never bragged of course, but being the King meant he was vastly popular amongst the women, who all wanted their fair chance of being a potential leader beside him. Clopin engaged in the occasional fling, it was a good way to relieve stress, but that's all it ever was to him. One night of sweaty pleasure that gave him an opportunity to get rid of some stress or anger. It wasn't exactly glamorous, but that was the cold, hard truth. He regarded the woman in front of him who played with his hair, practically face to face with her breasts that were corsetted so tight that they were practically popping out. He'd spent a few nights with Florica in the past, mostly because she could handle his roughness in a way that the other girls couldn't, and she enjoyed his company just as much. She practically asserted herself into his lap, clearly no longer interested in Hanzi.

'Have you come here to turn me down again, _mon Roi_?' She teased, one of her hands slipping up his back and working on his shoulders, and he couldn't stop his eyelids from fluttering as she kneaded through the knots in his back. He remembered the last time she'd come to him for company, when his head had been blagged from everything that was happening with Esmeralda, and he'd turned her away to try and get his feelings in check. It wasn't like anything had changed since then, but...

( _God, her hands are heavenly._ )

'Perhaps, my beauty. You may yet change my mind.' He grinned, opening his eyes again to look at her. She tutted softly, leaning closer to him until their noses were practically touching.

'What's the matter, Clopin? Am I suddenly not good enough for the King?' She teased, drawing circles on his arm lightly before grabbing the wine bottle from him, holding it up high out of his reach. 'Come on, take what's yours.' She giggled. He paused as he considered her, thinking long and hard to himself. He couldn't spend his whole life pining for Esmeralda, especially since she only saw him as a mentor and friend, with benefits when he or she needed it. He glanced back up at Florica, not sure if it was the alcohol or his sense kicking in.

'What the hell.' He muttered, grabbing her waist and pulling her back onto his lap harshly, as she exclaimed gleefully and wrapped herself around him. She held the bottle to his lips, tipping the wine down his throat for him before taking a long swig herself. She messed with his hair and placed kisses on his ears and neck, as Clopin growled playfully at the sensation, fully aware they were still in full view of the others but not even remotely caring. He grasped her more firmly in his lap, and she let out a small squeal of delight.

'Oh, I can feel you wanting me.' She said suggestively, pressing herself against him, their noses touching as she wrapped her spare arm around his neck. He smirked wickedly.

'You'll be feeling it soon, my lovely.' He purred, as Florica laughed, and she poured more of the wine down his neck. He half wondered if he would even remember any of this in the morning, before deciding it was best not to think about that now, and downed the remainder of the wine.

* * *

He spent the rest of the night with her and several other ladies who had all come over to him, but it was ultimately Florica who he ended up pushing into his tent at some point during the night, having left the caravan where the others were still drinking away merrily. As soon as they were inside of the tent, he grabbed her and picked her up on his hips, pressing her against his bed desperately. He kissed her feverishly and deeply, biting her bottom lip as he did, to which she moaned in delight, hitching up her skirt for him when she felt him pressing against her. It was all very intense.

As much as he liked to rough it up, he always held part of himself back with Esmeralda, never wanting to hurt her like he knew other's had done before. He growled at himself for thinking about her again, letting his mind go blank. Besides, this was Florica, he could fuck her until she _broke_ for all he cared.

He pulled at the strands of her corset, and whilst he was occupied, Florica turned them over until she was sitting on top of him, continuing her kisses down his neck. He had to bite hard on his lip to stop the wince from the sudden infliction on his wound, his side throbbing painfully. Clopin's hands wandered her body as the corset fell away, tracing every curve and line, trying to distract himself and focus on her and only her. That's when she found the sweet spot on his neck and collarbone that he loved so much, kissing and biting there playfully. Clopin growled in pleasure, pressing their hips together as he mumbled something incoherently, not even sure what he'd said himself. She stopped suddenly and without warning, drawing back from him.

'What?' She asked, looking down at him. Clopin opened his eyes in surprise, blinking up at her, not completely sure why she'd stopped.

'I... didn't say anything.' He frowned, confused.

'Yes you did, I heard you.'

'Well, what did I say?'

'You said 'Esmeralda'.' She said angrily. He cursed mentally, he couldn't even remember saying anything but he probably did, everything she did was just reminding him of her.

'I did?' He asked, trying to play it off, putting on the most innocent face that he could muster in this moment.

'Yes, you did!' She shouted, shoving him as she pulled herself up again from the bed, tying her corset back up and sorting out her dress, looking rather angry. 'You only wanted me to get your mind off her!' She accused, her tone filled with frustration. He remained frozen for a moment, unable to think of anything to say.

'Yes, well... you only wanted me because I'm the King, so I guess we're both to blame here.' He yelled back at her, scowling as she rolled her eyes and stormed out of the tent without another word.

He groaned loudly, slumping back down on the bed, rubbing his temples painfully. This was not how he imagined his night going. He looked down at himself and realised what a mess he looked. His shirt was half undone and his trousers were slightly unbuttoned, and he could feel his hair sticking up in every direction. He pulled himself up again painfully, removing the rest of his shirt and throwing it somewhere, not even looking to see where exactly it was. He could get it in the morning.

 _The morning_... God, he dreaded to even think about the morning. He was certainly not looking forward to whatever fresh hell awaited him when he woke up. He kicked off his boots and pulled the sheets over himself, burying his face into one of the pillows, praying for a good night's sleep and to have forgotten all about this tomorrow.

* * *

 **Author's Notes:**

 **\- Jean, Stefan, Hanzi and Luca are all OC.**

 **\- The Canterbury Tales was the only book I could find to have been published around 1400, I think? If it's wrong let me know, but we'll stick with that.**

 **\- Florica comes from the musical but is not the same character. The original Florica is the one who Frollo's brother runs away with and Quasimodo's mother, whereas Florica in this story is just one of Clopin's lovers.**

 **\- Esmeralda is originally said not to have been born a Gypsy, and that she was just taken in by the Romani people after her mother abandoned her. I applied this to this story but the rest of her and Clopin's background is not canon.**

 **\- 'Thai mol piyas' apparently translates to 'And wine we'll drink' in the Romani language. Also taken from the Romani tavern scene in the musical version - (The Tavern Song 'Thai Mol Piyas')**

 **French Translations (According to Google Translate):**

 ** _\- Bonjour_** **\- Good morning/Hello**

 ** _\- Cherie_** **\- Sweetheart**

 _ **\- Va vite**_ **\- Go quickly**

 ** _\- Oui_** **\- Yes**

 ** _\- Derriere_** **\- Backside**

 ** _\- Merde_** **\- Shit/Fuck/Crap**

 ** _\- Mon Dieu_** **\- My God**

 ** _\- Boulangerie_** **\- Bakery**

 ** _\- Mon Roi_** **\- My King**


	3. Breaking the Silence

**Title:** Story of a Gypsy King

 **Summary:** Life is never easy for the King of the Truands, but a well-timed joke and the finest girl in France never fails to bring him joy in this dark little world. A slightly twisted version of the Hunchback story with our favourite jester as the main character. Rated M for lemon and graphic depictions of torture in later chapters. Clopin/Esmeralda.

 **Characters:** Clopin Trouillefou, La Esmeralda (pairing)

 **Genre:** Hurt/Comfort, Romance

 **Quick note:** I really hated writing this chapter, don't know why, so if it's a bit short I'm sorry but I just needed a quick something before the next chapter, so it's just a lot of exposition really. Regardless, I hope you enjoy anyway. As always, author's notes and French translations are at the end!

* * *

 **CHAPTER THREE:** Breaking the Silence

Several days passed since Clopin's drunken night in the tavern; since he'd drank more wine than he should ever drink; since he'd accidentally called Florica by Esme's name during their heated moment - which, much to his disappointment, he remembered as clear as day.

He hadn't seen Esmeralda since he'd taken her to bed, and not by accident either. There was no way of saying why exactly he was avoiding her, why he was doing whatever possible to make sure he was never in the same room as her. Maybe it was out of embarrassment; worry that Florica had let slip of what had transpired between them. The more rational side of his brain, however, told him it was because it was what he _needed_. He needed to get her off of his mind, to be able to stop thinking about her for more than ten minutes, to make sure what happened with Florica never happened again. The more time he spent with her only ended in his feelings for her increasing.

So he was doing whatever he could to distract himself. He went out on small missions with his troupe of men, spent time with the others and the children, putting on shows for them. He even left the Court by himself on some days to just wander Paris.

Much to his surprise, none of this had helped. As well as continuously thinking about her, he now found himself missing her too. Missing her smile and her beautiful emerald eyes. Missing the way she lit up any room that she entered. Missing the way her body moved so perfectly as she danced along to the rhythm of her tambourine, making countless men fall helplessly at her feet. He missed-

He mentally slapped himself. Why could he not get her out of his head?

( _pull yourself together, Trouillefou_.)

He groaned in frustration, allowing his body to sag against the stage outside of his tent, hearing it creak as his weight leant against it. It wasn't exactly sturdy; he'd set it up in the early hours of the morning in order to distract himself and to prepare for the upcoming Festival in town. The Festival of Fools. It was the one day in the year that he and his people could roam the streets of Paris without fear of prosecution. The day that men, women and children alike all travelled from far and wide to hear their songs and watch their magical feats and performances. He'd been convinced the festivities would have been enough to get his mind off everything; it was his favourite time of year after all. He adored any chance to perform some magic and dance routines to a large crowd.

He pushed long strands of hair out of his face, finding it to be slick with sweat, grabbing a band from his pocket to tie it out of the way for now. It was hard to think when you were constantly finding hair in your mouth. The Festival was taking place tomorrow afternoon, and although he had everything planned out perfectly, he still felt extremely unprepared. He'd run through the schedule too many times to count, fixing everything in place. He would appear to the crowd by jumping out from the parade that would march through the square beforehand, inserting himself and presenting the Festival as the Master of Ceremonies, warming up the audience with some light magic and comedy. Then the girls would join him for the dancing and singing before leading up the main attraction, crowning the King of Fools. This was a little running theme they had every year, where they crowned the ugliest man or woman in the crowd. The townspeople loved this particular part of the show, so they kept it in every year. It also drew everyone's attention away for long enough that Clopin and the other Romani in the crowd could pick the pockets of a few distracted citizens before slipping away back to the Court, unnoticed by the Guards.

It was foolproof, and yet even with everything set out accordingly, he still felt something was missing.

Or _someone_ , for that matter.

Esmeralda had always been involved in the Festival ever since she was a little girl when Clopin had first taught her how to dance. Though he had tried hard to keep her out of sight back then, she had always insisted on jumping up on stage and joining in with the other ladies when they danced for the people, and she still loved it just as much these days. Hardly a day went by when Es wasn't performing, dancing or singing with her fellow Romani. Clopin had caught her dancing several times out on the streets as well, even though the Guards had threatened to arrest her on many occasions. He was starting to come around to the fact that he couldn't look out for her as much as he used to, as hard as he still tried. She was her own spirit, wild and carefree, and loved to stand out from the others. As much as Clopin admired this about her, sometimes he wished she wouldn't be so reckless.

Though... he was hardly one to talk.

Even so, it felt wrong to be planning everything out like this without her beside him. He always loved to have her opinion, and he knew that she would want to be a part of the Festival just as much as he did. She'd probably want a dance by herself, no doubt, which, though potentially dangerous for her, would definitely draw more people's attention, especially the men. However, asking her to be a part of the Festival meant going to see her, and after a week of avoiding her, she probably wasn't too eager to see him. It would also require him breaking the pact he'd made with himself to stay away from her, running the risk of falling more in love with her than he already was, but... he couldn't help but miss her. They'd spent almost their entire life together, not seeing her was _strange_. Even if she just slammed the door in his face upon seeing him, it would be worth it.

Decided, he pulled himself up from the stage and sorted out his clothes, letting his hair down once again. He wiped away the beads of sweat that had formed on his forehead from all the dancing he'd been doing in practice, before starting to head down towards the main settlement. He passed children, men and women alike all running around in hurry to prepare for tomorrow, eager that they wouldn't miss a second of it. If he didn't know any better, he knew that everyone would be rushing out as soon as the sun came up, wanting to enjoy a normal day in Paris whilst they could. He couldn't help the smile on his face when he saw them all, seeing everyone so happy an excited made him burst with joy; it was so much better than seeing them constantly worried for their own lives. It was why he loved the Festival so much. Walking through the large mass of people, stopping occasionally to greet people or applaud their rehearsed dances for the day, he finally stopped outside of Esmeralda's caravan, seeing her door open invitingly.

He felt a sudden twinge of panic go through him, trying to think of what to say, wondering if he would have to apologise for his rude avoidance of her. His brain was shouting at him to just leave instead. He only shook his head at himself, knowing things would only get worse the longer he left it. With a deep breath, he pushed away his fear and stepped up to the caravan, knocking on the door rhythmically.

'Esmeralda?' He called, managing to sound much more confident than he actually felt. When there was no response, he peered his head around to see inside and frowned on discovering that the place was empty. He stood in the doorway dumbfoundedly, wondering where she could be, she was usually always here before Festivals practicing her own routines and dances.

'Hello, stranger.' A voice suddenly chimed from behind him, causing him to jump and turn quickly on his feet, coming face to the face with the lady in question. She stood just below him on the steps, wearing a purple skirt and... ( _was that one of his shirts_?), her arms folded and her beautiful smile present on her face. It took him a moment to collect himself before he grinned widely down at her.

'Ah, there you are. I was wondering where you'd got to.' He said, with all the false bravado he could conjure.

'Oh, I was just showing some routines to the men in the tavern, for critique, since you seem to have been unavailable.' She quipped lightly, brushing past him as she stepped into the caravan, paying him no heed. He racked his brain to think of an excuse.

'Yes, well... apparently being King keeps one rather busy.'

She paused, ' _Busy_? Is that what you call avoiding me for an entire week? Leaving the room every time I came in? Not even bothering with so much as a 'Hello'?' She asked, her tone edging in anger. The expression on her face was terrible, looking at him with hurt and sadness, clearly upset that he hadn't given her the time of day recently, especially after everything she had done for him. The smile on his face disappeared, feeling an awful pang of guilt.

'Esmeralda...' He breathed, 'I am _so_ sorry. I-'

'You don't have to explain.' She cut him off, her eyes fixed on her hands. He looked up from the floor in surprise, watching her mess with the fabric of her sleeve absently. 'You've had a rough few weeks, it isn't exactly shocking that you'd need some time to yourself.'

'Even still, it was wrong of me to distance myself from you like that.' He admitted glumly, not understanding how she could possibly be so forgiving of him, she was impossibly kind. He stepped over cautiously, reaching out to take her hands, kneeling down in front of her. 'I am sorry, Esme. I promise it will not happen again. If it does, you have my permission to put me in the stocks and tickle me mercilessly.' He joked, as his hands shot out and tickled her sides with his fingers, still remembering all her weak spots. She laughed and jumped away, swatting at his hands, her smile returning.

'In front of the Court?' She pried, brows arching. He sighed and held a hand up to his head, dramatically.

'I suppose it is only necessary.' He said, extravagantly, to which she laughed once more and rolled her eyes fondly. He smiled as he drew himself up again, squeezing her hands. 'Am I forgiven, _Cherie_?' He checked, looking at her pleadingly. She considered him briefly, before she wrapped her arms around him, pulling him into an embrace.

'Of course.' She whispered, happily, and he smiled and returned the embrace tightly, holding her for a brief moment before spinning her around in his arms, much to her delight, and then landing her back on her feet smoothly.

'So, these dances you've been doing. What are they for?'

'Well, actually, I was thinking that maybe I could... join you on stage tomorrow?' She asked, biting her lip, unable to contain her excitement. 'I know you think it's dangerous and that you don't like me being on stage in front of all the Guards, but I can fend for myself now and I really think I could- why are you laughing?' She asked, frowning as she watched him press a hand to his stomach to quell his chuckles, wiping a fake tear from his eye.

'That's the reason I came to find you in the first place, isn't that a wonderful coincidence?' He chuckled once again, smiling up at her. 'I was going to ask you to dance tomorrow at the Festival, just before we crown the King of Fools.' He explained, and her face immediately lit up, happier than he'd seen her look in a while.

' _Really_? You want me to do that?'

'Of course I do. You're a wonderful dancer and, you're right, you can fend for yourself now.' He admitted reluctantly, pushing down the worry he felt about the whole situation. 'Will you do it?'

'Clopin, you know I would never turn that down.' She practically exclaimed, her arms wrapping around him once again, kissing his cheek in delight. 'Thank you so much.'

'Anytime, my dear.' He smiled, pulling back to look at her again. 'So, do I get to see this wonderful routine you have prepared?'

'You will... when I'm on stage.' She smirked, smug. 'It's a surprise, but I'm sure you will love it.'

'Ah, well, you know how much I love surprises.'

'Exactly. Now,' she began, taking his hands and leading him to the door, 'go and finish getting ready. We don't have long and... I'm going to need to work on my routine more now.' She ordered, smiling, to which he bowed to her in compliance.

'As you command, _ma dame_. I still have a few last minute adjustments to make to my outfit anyway.' He grinned, opening the door to leave.

'You'll look as handsome as ever, I'm sure.' She said, surprisingly, which caused him to stop for a beat to take in what she'd said.

'Well, of course,' he played off smoothly, 'nothing could falter these good looks.' He smirked, winking up at her before sauntering off again back up to his tent. She shook her head fondly as he left, watching him go before shutting her door and leaning against it thoughtfully.

 _He really did look handsome in those outfits of his_.

* * *

 **Author's Notes:**

\- Like I said at the start, really short chapter, it's just a small lead up to the Festival and it's awful and I hate it, but I've tried to improve it as much as I could. Next chapter will be focused all on the Festival so I promise it will be better! Thank you for reading anyway!

 **French Translations (According to Google Translate):**

\- Cherie - Sweetheart

\- Ma Dame - My Lady


	4. The Feast of Fools

**Title:** Story of a Gypsy King

 **Summary:** Life is never easy for the King of the Truands, but a well-timed joke and the finest girl in France never fails to bring him joy in this dark little world. A slightly twisted version of the Hunchback story with our favourite jester as the main character. Rated M for lemon and graphic depictions of torture in later chapters. Clopin/Esmeralda.

 **Characters:** Clopin Trouillefou, La Esmeralda (pairing)

 **Genre:** Hurt/Comfort, Romance

 **Author's Notes and French Translations at the end! Enjoy!**

* * *

 **CHAPTER THREE: The Feast of Fools**

* * *

The Festival had officially begun.

Men, women and children all flocked eagerly to the square to witness the parades, dressed for the occasion in scary masks and wild costumes. The town that was usually barren and empty and crawling with soldiers was now alive with colour, confetti and streamers covering the ground and flagpoles tied together with bright string and bunting that went through the entire square. Wine and ale was being poured generously everywhere you looked, no empty tankards in sight and the smell of baked goods and delicacies filled the air. It was _wonderful_ chaos.

Esmeralda was watching the craziness ensure from her tent beside the main stage, keen to watch the beginning of the Festival before she herself became a part of it. As much as she loved entertaining and dancing, she also relished just sitting back and watching the experience. It was the one day when they weren't all on edge. There was no lack of food, no running from the law, no one risking their lives for a mere drop of water. They were all just enjoying themselves, and they were happy.

However, as much as she was loving watching everything, she really needed to get dressed; the main parade would be circling back into the main square soon, and she knew Clopin would begin the festival as soon as it came around. She didn't have much left to do, her hair was already done and all her jewellery was already fixed in place, she just needed to get out of her robe and put on her dress, which she was extremely excited to wear. It had been handmade by herself and had cost almost two weeks of savings to buy the materials for; a beautiful red gown with a slit down the side that showed off one of her bare legs, and a purple satin material wrapped around the middle that flowed elegantly when she moved. She had been planning to wear it during the Festival beforehand, but it would look even more gorgeous now she would be dancing in it.

Reluctantly she pulled herself away from the entrance of her tent and moved back inside towards her wardrobe, opening it and withdrawing the dress from within. She lay it across the back of her chair and began to pull at the strings of her robe to take it off. As she did, she heard a loud bang from behind her as someone abruptly fell into her tent, landing on the ground with a large thump.

' _Hey_!' She exclaimed in shock, quickly wrapping the robe back around herself, turning to look at whoever had just tumbled in. The figure lay on the ground, groaning underneath his cloak that fell over his face. She cleared her throat, moving over to him. 'Are you okay?'

'I-I didn't mean to.' A terrified voice responded, as the man drew himself up slowly and cowered away from her, keeping his face hidden. 'I'm... I'm sorry.'

'You're not hurt are you?' She asked, worried he'd cut his head when he fell. She stepped towards him. 'Here, let's see.'

He protested strongly as her hands came to his hood, trying to bring it down over his head as he fought back. Eventually, she pushed it back, and she struggled to hold back a gasp when her eyes landed on his... face? It must have been a mask. She looked over his head for any sign of injury and smiled when she found nothing.

'There. No harm done.' She reassured, and the boy smiled up at her, his fear suddenly disappearing. She offered him a hand and pulled him to his feet, leading him back to the entrance. 'Try to be a little more careful, okay?'

'I-I will.' He agreed, nodding as he headed out. She regarded him once again, almost curiously.

'By the way, great mask.' She said, flashing him one last smile before she re-sealed the tent and moved back inside. What a strange boy, he'd seemed awfully scared of her; perhaps he had thought she was some kind of 'Gypsy sorceress', or something silly like that. These people were all the same. There was no time to dwell on it however, she could hear the parade drawing closer.

With her dress finally on, she gave herself a quick glance in the mirror before deeming herself ready and moving back to the entrance to wait for her cue. She instantly spotted the parade moving through the centre of the square. The men all held up large poles with flags on them as the ladies danced ahead, people parting as they came through, all led by Hanzi at the front who wore bright clothing to attract everyone's attention. Esmeralda smiled to herself happily, it was magical to watch. Hanzi led them up to the stage, where the ladies continued to dance, twirling and kicking their legs up high as people gathered around to watch.

As they reached the end of their performance, they grouped together in the middle of the stage and bowed to the audience, and as they did, a figure leapt from behind them and landed perfectly at the front of the platform. Clopin stood proudly at the centre, dressed in a colourful shirt with long sleeves and black trousers, with a tattered hat on top of his head, laughing and grinning as people cheered and applauded his appearance. Esmeralda smirked to herself, she could tell he was loving the attention.

His usual bright mask was placed over his eyes, hiding his face from the crowd and the soldiers. Clopin had always been extremely careful to hide his identity from the King's Guard, especially at events like this, so that if he should ever be captured they had no way of telling if he was the leader or not. He wasn't a fool unless he was trying to be, he knew what they would do if they somehow managed to catch him, and so he would keep his face hidden, always.

' _Bienvenue_ , ladies and gentlemen, to the Feast of Fools!' He shouted arms spread widely as he addressed the crowd. They responded just as well, clapping encouragingly. 'Master of Ceremonies, Clopin Trouillefou at your service!' He laughed, bowing effortlessly as the people's uproar only increased. As he drew himself up again, he took a brief second to scan the crowd thoroughly, counting every soldier he could see. Es watched his eyes linger for a particularly long time on the royal box positioned at the back of the crowd before he returned his attention back to the crowd. Esmeralda turned to try and see who exactly Clopin had been eyeing up, knowing it could only mean danger. Inside the box, she spotted him.

Dom Claude Frollo, the Archdeacon of Notre Dame. A Holy man who resided mostly in the Cathedral, hardly ever seen outside of it, especially not on days like this. He was notoriously known for his hatred for the Romani people, and he'd expressed his desire to purge all of Paris of them on many occasions. Esmeralda scowled softly, wondering what on earth he was doing here, and realised that Clopin had probably been thinking the same thing when he'd seen him. They'd need to be extra careful today.

She went back to watching Clopin's performance, admiring him as he pulled birds from hats and danced and sang with the others. One of the girls he was dancing with seemed to be particularly enamoured with him, hardly leaving his side as they danced together, Clopin spinning her beautifully into his arms and picking her up off her feet as she wrapped her arms around his neck. She couldn't help but feel... jealous? Why she didn't know, but something about seeing him in the arms of another woman made her inside's boil. Maybe it was because she was so protective of him, after all, they had spent their entire lives together. Yes, that had to be it. It wasn't jealousy, it was just... attentiveness.

He ( _finally_ ) pulled himself away from her, moving back to the centre of the stage as he unhooked one of the smoke bombs from his belt, a gesture so quick that no one else would have spotted it. She also recognised this as her cue. She snuck out of her tent and moved towards the stage where no one was looking, Clopin keeping all their attention over where he was. He grinned and spread his arms wide.

'Come all, and see the finest girl in France make an entrance to entrance!' He sang happily, as he held his arm up high, glancing over to make sure she was ready. 'Dance, la Esmeralda, _dance_!'

His arm went down and the smoke bomb hit as a purple cloud covered the entire stage, blinding everybody was just long enough that she could jump into position, a tambourine in one hand and a piece of fabric that matched the one around her waist in the other. People cheered loudly as they saw her, golden bandles around her ankles and wrists that jangled as she moved, and matched the gold headpiece tied into her curled hair and her hooped earrings. She made sure to look over in Clopin's direction and was pleased to see his wide eyes and slightly ajar mouth, causing her to smirk before she began to dance around the stage, people whistling and cheering as she did.

She ran through her entire routine effortlessly, performing pirouettes and leg kicks and plies across the stage, hitting her tambourine rhythmically against her hip as she did, the audience and other Romani clapping along with her. Her eyes landed once again on the Royal Box and felt smug to see the Archdeacon himself staring at her with desire, as were all of his Guards. In that moment, she decided to do something potentially stupid, but too funny to turn down. She made her way down the stairs of the stage, the crowd parting for her as she spun through the centre towards where the Archdeacon sat, dancing up to the box and hopped herself up onto the arm of his chair.

He immediately backed away from her in disgust, but she wrapped the fabric around his neck and pulled him back to her again, and kissed the tip of his nose. The look on his face was priceless, and definitely worth it, especially when she hit his hat over his face and jumped away again, spinning back down onto the ground. She heard him growl behind her, but took no notice, dancing back up onto the stage. She didn't even have to look to see Clopin's disapproving expression, feeling his eyes burning into the back of her head, but ignored it as she carried on dancing.

Instead, she made her way over to where Clopin was standing and grabbed his hand to bring him over to her. He looked momentarily stunned but allowed her to pull him along, standing him in the centre of the stage and dancing around him. She knew he would go along with it comfortably, he was used to being brought into her acts by now. He feigned embarrassment and fanned himself comically as she brushed up against him, causing the audience to laugh. She wrapped a leg around his waist and he responded easily, taking her hands and dancing with her in perfect unison as if they'd rehearsed it. At a moment when her back was to the crowd, she took advantage of her position to lean in close to his ear.

'You wear your trousers _too tight_ , my liege.' She whispered mischievously, brushing her leg against his crotch subtly before spinning herself away again. The blush on his face was worth it; she knew how to tease him. She danced around him a few more times before taking hold of the pole at the side of the stage. She spun herself effortlessly around it, before landing in a perfect split and throwing her arms into the air to finish. The crowd erupted into applause, whistling and cheering, some people throwing roses onto the stage at her feet.

A smug feeling washed over to her as she spotted Frollo staring with his mouth wide open, and his Captain of the Guard clapping and cheering too. He winked at her when she made eye contact with him, and she couldn't help but blush slightly. He was handsome, for a soldier. Clopin appeared at her side and offered her a hand, drawing her up into a standing position, before she bowed to the crowd as Clopin joined in with the applause. Once they were finished, Esmeralda moved aside so Clopin could take the centre once again.

'And now, the _pièce de résistance_! Who shall be this year's King of Fools?' He shouted cheerfully, producing a tattered looking crowd from behind his back, as everyone immediately begun to cheer enthusiastically with excitement. 'Folks, step right up and pull your ugliest face for a chance to be crowned your Highness!' He encouraged, as men and women stepped up the stage, all lining up to be chosen. Esmeralda placed them all into position, before letting her eyes wander and spotting the boy in the crowd from earlier, his hood drawn over his face still. She smiled and went over to him, leaning down to speak to him.

'Care to be crowned King for a day?' She asked, and the boy only flinched, not responding. She realised he was probably shy, so she extended a hand towards him and smiled encouragingly. 'Come on, give it a shot.'

The boy hesitated, looking down at her hand, before slowly taking it and letting her pull him onto the stage, where she put him at the end of the line and moved to the side. Clopin began to make his way down the line as the participants made their faces, and he shoved them off as the audience booed and jeered them. Eventually, he made his way down to the last man, who held his cloak over his head in terror.

'Come now, _monsieur_ ,' Clopin prompted, clasping a hand on his back, 'you cannot win if you don't show your face, no?' He said, and there was a small hum of silence where it seemed as if he wasn't going to do it, before he nodded and slowly drew back his hood, revealing his face to the crowd.

The people around the stage gasped and cried as they saw him, not believing what they were seeing, shocked by his appearance. The boy immediately brought his arms up to shelter his face in fright, turning away as the crowd began to shout.

'Is that a mask?'

'No, it's his face!'

'He's _hideous_!'

'It's the bell ringer from Notre Dame!'

'Quasimodo the Hunchback! Archdeacon Frollo's pet!'

Clopin looked out to the crowd who were all screaming at the same time, feeling stuck, not sure what to do. He'd heard rumours of the bell ringer, people claiming to have spotted him before and seen a face of nightmares, however, he'd just considered them to be made up nonsense by people looking for attention. Of course, he knew the bells didn't ring all by themselves, he'd just assumed one of the Churchmen was behind it. He never expected the boy to actually be real though, he'd never been seen in public after all.

Clopin glanced over at Esmeralda, who looked equally as dumbfounded, looking to him for an answer to the chaos. The Romani throughout the crowd were unable to do their jobs now that the crowd were no longer engaged, and if this continued they would not be able to slip away unnoticed. He had to think of something. He stepped forward confidently, shielding the boy with his arms, clearing his throat loudly.

'Ladies and Gentlemen, please, calm yourselves!' He shouted as the crowd hushed down to a faint murmur. 'You asked for your King of Fools, did you not? And we found him! Quasimodo, the Hunchback of Notre Dame! Hail to your new King!' He laughed, turning to the boy and bowing proudly, placing the crown on top of his head carefully. It took a moment, but the audience slowly began to clap once again, followed by several cheers, and soon enough they were back to their loud screaming and applauding. Clopin sighed in relief, watching Quasimodo step forwards slowly and embrace the title, jumping excitedly. He felt a hand slip into his and looked up to see Esme pulling him away from the stage, letting the boy have his moment. She took him under the decking, away from prying eyes.

'That was fast thinking on your part, well done.' She whispered as they came to a stop beneath the platform. 'I wasn't sure how they were going to react. That poor boy.'

'Well, he's got his moment now, hopefully, they'll be a bit more accepting.' He nodded, and she smiled at him admirably, wrapping her arms around his neck.

'What did you think of my dancing?' She asked, fingers trailing up his neck to mess with his hair. 'Good enough for you, teacher?' She purred, backing him up against the timber.

'Perfect, as always.' He said approvingly, prying her arms from around his neck, much to her surprise. 'You never fail to disappoint.' He added, before moving into the tent at the side of the stage, which he'd set up for himself. She frowned at him in curiosity, following him inside and watching him as he began to pack up his things.

'You seem off.' She pointed out, moving over to him and running her hands down his arms. 'Not in the mood?'

'Quite the opposite, my dear.' He turned to her, putting on a smile. 'I just want to stay focused right now, something could go wrong at any point, and I don't want that happening with Frollo in the crowd.' He excused, which, wasn't exactly a lie. He did want to stay focused, but he also couldn't let himself give in t her. His feelings were strong enough already without him risking making them worse.

'How noble of you, putting others first before your sex drive.' She teased, 'Most men would act differently.'

'A good thing then that I'm not like most men.' He chuckled, giving a small flourish of his hand before turning back to his things. Esme smiled and blushed.

( _No, he really isn't_.)

She turned her attention back to outside the tent again when she heard the sound of cheering and shouting perk up once more, the crowd sounding more rowdy than usual. She listened carefully.

'Tie him up!'

'Beat him! _Whip_ him!'

'Hold him down!' Various voices yelled on and on, catching Clopin's attention too.

'What is happening out there?' He frowned, moving over to the entrance and pushing back the fly of the tent. His eyes widened in shock to see the Hunchback had been tied down to the main stage, whilst people threw things at him, vegetables and fruits and whatever else they could see. His shirt had been ripped, leaving his back on display as a man stood behind him and whipped him mercilessly, as the crowd laughed and egged him on. Quasimodo fought hard against the people holding him down, but to no avail, crying and calling out for help as his master just looked on, the soldiers doing nothing to stop the cruelty. Esmeralda was right behind him, gasping in horror when she saw the scene in front of them.

'What are they doing to him?' She choked, holding back tears that stung her eyes. She pushed past him, picking up the end of her skirt as she went running onto the stage. Clopin leapt forward just in time, grabbing her arm.

'What are you doing? Are you _crazy_?' He scolded.

'Let go of me, now!' She retorted angrily, struggling against him.

'Esmeralda, listen. I know this is bad but... this is our biggest moneymaker, just let the pickpockets do their jobs and then-'

'You of all people should know better!' She yelled, managing to yank her arm away. 'What if it was me up there? Or one of your own? You would help then, wouldn't you?'

'But he isn't one of us. He's Frollo's _son_.' Clopin argued, returning the glare she was giving him. Esmeralda only stared back at him in shock.

'I don't think _you_ are in a position to judge someone on who their father is.' She glowered and felt a twinge of regret as she saw him visibly flinch, but stuck to it. She took a breath, picking up her skirt again. 'Someone has to do something.'

'Esmeralda, I am _warning_ you-' He tried, but it was too late, Esmeralda was already bolting onto the stage before he'd had a chance to even speak. She practically threw herself in front of the boy, her arms spread, breathless from the running.

' ** _Stop_**!' She yelled at the top of her voice, frantic, the people around her pausing and jumping away in shock at her sudden appearance. The man with the whip finally lowered his arm, and Esmeralda moved towards the boy slowly. The back of his shirt had been ripped open, leaving his hunched back on show, covered in whip marks that covered his skin and the ground in blood. His head was bowed, keeping quiet, shaking in fear. She sank down to her knees beside him cautiously, reaching towards him.

'I'm so sorry.' She whispered gently, producing a piece of cloth from the folds of her dress to wipe his face of the blood and vegetables, pushing his hair back. 'This wasn't supposed to happen. You're safe now, I promise.'

Quasimodo lifted his head slowly to look up at her, clearly still petrified, but he managed a shaky smile all the same. Esmeralda spotted Frollo stand from his chair in the box, looking furious.

'You, Gypsy girl! Get down from there at once!' He yelled angrily.

'Of course, your honour,' Esmeralda replied, standing slowly to meet the Archdeacon's gaze, 'just as soon as I've freed this poor creature.'

'I _forbid_ it.' Frollo snarled, but Esmeralda didn't listen, instead, she produced a dagger from her belt and cut the ropes around the boy's wrists, setting him free. Clopin, who had tried to run after her beforehand, was crouching at the side of the steps, watching her in anger and frustration. What the hell was she playing at? She was about to start a riot if she wasn't careful.

'Clopin.' An urgent voice sounded beside him, and he turned to see Hanzi and a few other Romani standing behind him. 'We need to do get out of here, Esmeralda is drawing too much attention!'

'Yes.' Clopin responded, dumbly, unable to think of anything right now. 'Gather everyone and start to head back to the Court, do not allow yourselves to be followed. I'll... cause a distraction.' He spoke down to him, as the other man just nodded and started to round up the rest of them to get them away. Clopin turned his attention back to the stage, where Esmeralda was helping the boy up to his feet, his bounds now cut away.

'How dare you defy me!' Frollo roared, stepping down from his chair, his face red with anger.

'You mistreat this boy the same way you mistreat my people! You speak of justice yet you are cruel to those most in need of your help, and we will not stand for it!' She shouted, which was met by several loud cheers from the remaining Romani scattered through the crowd. ' ** _We will have justice_**!' She finished, raising a fist into the air. Clopin found he was holding his breath, convinced she had lost her mind.

'Mark my words Gypsy, you will pay for this insolence!' Frollo pointed a bony finger in her direction, eyes narrowed, as Esmeralda only smirked in retaliation.

'Then it appears we've crowned the wrong fool,' She said, turning to Quasimodo and taking the crown from on top of his head, holding it up. 'The only fool I see here is _you_!' She threw the tattered crown towards him, and it landed just in front of the box. Clopin swore his heart momentarily stopped, did she have any idea what she was doing?! She was going to get them all killed.

'Captain! Arrest the Gypsy girl, now!' The Archdeacon ordered, finally at his wit's end. The man on the horse beside him momentarily hesitated, before raising his hand to enforce the order, and the other soldiers began to move in, circling around the stage. Esmeralda moved back slowly, holding the dagger in her hands defensively, not looking even slightly frightened though she was clearly outnumbered. Clopin scanned the crowd to see the remaining Romani begin to flee, using the soldier's distraction to get out of the crowd. His main priority now was her.

The Guards enclosed around the stage, and Esmeralda looked around desperately for a way of escape. She turned and suddenly came face to face with Clopin, who stood next to her, his expression full of disappointment and anger.

'I warned you, didn't I?' He scowled, before lifting his hand and throwing another smoke bomb down to the ground, which exploded loudly. Several of the soldier's horses threw their riders off at the sudden bang, and as everyone was momentarily blinded, Clopin grabbed Esme's arm and pulled her away from the stage and out of sight. They ran fast, behind buildings and through alleyways, and Clopin kept a hold of her the whole time as they fled, not wanting to lose her at any point. They needed to get far away from the Festival and quickly, the soldiers would be on their tail in a matter of minutes.

As they turned a particularly sharp corner, Clopin let out a yell of pain, stumbling as he fell into the wall and leant against it dependently. Es stopped and turned back to him, about to ask what was wrong before she saw his hand shooting to his side, a dark blood stain appearing there. His wound had opened up again. He cursed incoherently, it still hadn't healed properly, and the theatrics and activity of the day certainly hadn't helped. Es scowled as she saw it, rushing back to him.

' _Merde_ , Clopin, have you been treating it at all?' She practically scolded, pulling his hand away so she could take a closer look.

'Clearly not as well as I should have been.' He gasped hoarsely, wincing at her touch. He waved her off with his spare hand, staying against the wall. 'Just keep going, I'll follow you... in a minute.'

'No! I'm not going without you.'

'Es, I _can't_.' He breathed, eyes screwed shut in agony. 'They want you, not me. I'll be fine, but you need to go.' He insisted, his expression unreadable. She bit her lip softly, knowing he was right, there was no way he could run back to the Court all the way from here. Not unaided, anyway. Nevertheless, she couldn't leave him like this. She moved over to him and took his arm that he wasn't clutching himself with and wrapped it around her shoulders, taking his weight.

'I've got you, just lean on me.' She tried, and he opened his mouth to protest, before snapping it shut and just nodding. He needed her help if he was going to get anywhere. He let himself lean on her, stumbling at first but she managed to get a firm grip on him, walking with him slowly.

They managed through two more alleyways before Clopin lost his strength again, collapsing in on himself. He grabbed onto the wall as Esmeralda swore under her breath, trying to get him back up.

'Come on, we can't stop here. We're not that far away now.' She tried, but he just shook his head, clearly at his rope's end.

'I'm sorry, I just need a second to-' He stopped abruptly, his head shooting up at the sound of shuffling nearby, the sound ringing loudly in his ears though it had been no louder than a pin drop. Es, who hadn't heard anything, only frowned at him in confusion.

'Clo-'

' _Wait_.' He said urgently, listening, managing to pull himself up again and edge forwards cautiously.

'Clopin, it's fine. We're far away from the crowd now. No one will be following us.' She tried, touching his arm. He didn't listen, blocking her out momentarily as he yanked himself away from the wall somehow, moving forward without making a sound, silent as anything. The noise came again, and Clopin drew his dagger from his belt, holding it up defensively. Esmeralda came forward too, trying to listen, but he practically pushed her back behind him again protectively. She grunted in exasperation, shaking her head at him.

'Clopin, you're just being paranoid. There's no one here.' She reassured gently. He glanced back at her, seeming hesitant, but when the noise didn't come again he decided she was right. He nodded once and sheathed his dagger again, but stayed cautious as Esmeralda followed behind him, keeping close in case he needed any assistance.

He moved forward, pressing a hand against his wound to stem the bleeding, and as he took one step around the corner there was a sudden flash of something shiny as a metal blade was pressed against Clopin's neck, causing him to jump and exclaim in shock. He looked up to see the Captain on top of his horse, holding his sword against Clopin's throat threateningly, his eyes narrowed.

'Don't take another step.' He warned, his voice harsh. Esmeralda flinched behind him, staring up at the solider, feeling herself holding her breath. Clopin, however, remained calm and composed somehow, no fear evident in his eyes, even with the sharp blade pressed against his throat.

'Listen, we don't want any trouble.' He said, feeling the sword scrape against his jugular as he spoke.

'Yet you caused a lot of it at the Festival.' The Captain pointed out, arching a brow. Clopin glanced around, seeing no one else around them.

'How many of there are you?'

'Only myself, luckily for you.'

'I see.' Clopin said calmly, before glancing back at Esme. 'Esmeralda, run, now.' He ordered sternly. She looked shocked at his sudden command, not knowing what to do.

'I'm not leaving you-'

'That's an order, Esmeralda. Go, _now_.' He scowled softly, not even turning to look at her. He might not be able to get out of this himself, but at least he could guarantee her safety. Esmeralda glanced up at the soldier, and back to Clopin, hesitating before turning and running quickly away into a nearby alley. Clopin sighed in relief as he heard her footsteps echoing away, praying silently that she would make it back safely.

He looked back to the solider, smug. 'You can only chase after one of us.' He pointed out, his expression determined. Even still, it was obvious he was struggling. One hand clutched at his re-opened wound and his skin had become a ghostly pale colour, it seemed almost miraculous that he hadn't passed out yet. The Captain watched as the girl ran away, before looking down at him again in consideration.

'You must care for her deeply, to sacrifice yourself like that.'

'My people come before me. Would you not do the same for your own loved ones?' He inquired, tilting his head, allowing the blade to press against his neck further in defiance. The Captain hesitated before nodding once, coming down from his horse, keeping his sword aimed at him.

'I don't believe I've had the displeasure yet, Captain...?'

'Phoebus, and no, it's my first day.' He stated proudly.

'Ah, only just arrived and you've already caught a notorious criminal, and a Gypsy one at that, too. The Archdeacon will like you.' Clopin laughed, and Phoebus just ignored him, glancing down and finally spotting the blood patch at his lower abdomen. He lowered his sword slightly to gesture to it.

'You're hurt.'

'Well aren't you just the brightest in the bunch?' Clopin drawled sarcastically, staring up at him blankly. Phoebus scowled, his sword raising once again to his throat, and Clopin winced as he felt the cold metal pressing into his skin.

'The next soldier you run into might not be so lenient towards you, Gypsy, especially with that attitude of yours.' He warned, watching as Clopin only smirked in retaliation. He had a strong will; if he was going to be arrested he certainly would not go quietly. Phoebus considered him briefly, before withdrawing his sword and sheathing it into his belt. He looked back at Clopin, who was now no longer smirking, just staring at him dumbfounded, rubbing his neck where the sword had been.

'Go, now, for that girl's sake. Before I change my mind.' He said sternly, and Clopin hesitated momentarily before nodding and bowing to him, the gesture clumsy from his infliction.

' _Merci_ , _Capitaine_.' He managed, voice still strained, before reaching into his pocket and throwing a small brown bag to him. Phoebus caught it and frowned down at it, realising slowly that it was his coin purse that he'd lost during the Festival. He opened his mouth to protest, looking back up towards him, but froze when he realised Clopin was nowhere to be seen. He stared at the space where he had been for a moment, before chuckling to himself, pocketing the purse and jumping back onto his horse, riding out of view.

* * *

 **Author's Notes:**

 **-** It's kind of a mishmash of bits from the Disney and Musical Festival scenes, with my own added in bits here and there. In the Disney Clopin is only really around up to Quasimodo's crowning, however, in the musical, he warns Es not to save Quasi from the people and helps her escape afterwards as well.

\- Also, the little bit between Clopin and Phoebus comes from the musical, but just before Esmeralda's dance when Clopin attempts to pickpocket Phoebus, but I only used one line from that bit.

 **French Translations (According to Google Translate):**

\- _Bienvenue_ / Welcome

\- _Monsieur_ / Sir

\- _Merde_ / Shit/Fuck/Crap

\- _Merci_ , _Capitane_ / Thank you, Captain

 **Thanks for reading!**


	5. A Rude Awakening

**Title:** Story of a Gypsy King

 **Summary:** Life is never easy for the King of the Truands, but a well-timed joke and the finest girl in France never fails to bring him joy in this dark little world. A slightly twisted version of the Hunchback story with our favourite jester as the main character. Rated M for lemon and graphic depictions of torture in later chapters. Clopin/Esmeralda.

 **Characters:** Clopin Trouillefou, La Esmeralda (pairing)

 **Genre:** Hurt/Comfort, Romance

 **Author's Notes and French Translations at the end! Enjoy!**

* * *

 **CHAPTER FIVE: A Rude Awakening**

* * *

'Clopin? _Clopin_!'

What the hell was all that shouting about? It was awfully loud, it felt like someone was grating his eardrums. If only they would be quiet; the silence had been wonderfully relaxing, despite the throbbing in his... arm? Hip? Leg? He wasn't entirely sure, but he wanted it to go away.

'Clopin? Can you hear me?'

Why wouldn't he be able to hear them? The way they were shouting he was sure anyone within a twenty-mile radius was capable of picking up the sound, however, muffled it might have been. But why was it muffled? Was he underwater? It certainly didn't feel like it. With every passing second, he felt his other senses slowly kicking in, and he was suddenly becoming aware of the sharp stone jabbing into his back.

'You need to wake up, I have to take you home.'

Home, huh. Where was home? Where was he?

He felt his eyelids flicker briefly with determination to answer his own question.

'Yes, come on, that's it. Wake up, please.'

That voice sounded familiar, comforting even. In his state, he couldn't make out exactly where he'd heard it before, but it seemed to soothe his entire being. It was feminine, that he knew for certain.

'Esm-?' He tried, rather pathetically, the name he had attempted to speak only coming out in a serious of unintelligible sounds. He must've looked pretty ridiculous right about now.

'It's alright, I've got you.' The woman's voice came again, almost chasing away the darkness that pressed against his eyelids. He felt a hand against his cheek that moved the hairs that were sticking to his lips, the texture of her hands rough and... kind of bumpy.

Not Esmeralda then. Esme's hands were practically like woven silk, soft and smooth to the touch, and the complete opposite of whoever currently had their hands on his face.

His curiosity seemed to overpower his exhaustion, as he was able to force his lids open and spot the blurred figure above him. As the haze slowly started to fade, he made out long brown hair and dull blue eyes and a kind face that looked down at him with an expression of concern, and almost immediately he realised exactly who was talking to him.

'Clair?' He finally managed, somehow able to find the name in his clogged mind and connect it to the face staring down at him. Clair was one of the oldest members of the Court, except for Nana Rosaline, and Clopin had known her for as long as he could remember. She had always been around and was one of the very few people that he trusted with his life, practically a mother to him.

'Yes, it's me. You're safe now.' Clair reassured, her hand slipping behind his head and lifting it from the hard ground and onto her lap, which felt like a pillow in comparison. He didn't struggle against her, too weak to even consider putting up a fight. He didn't understand why he felt so weak, or why he was on the ground, or anything to be precise. Everything was a blur.

'Safe?' Was the only word he could respond with, feeling as if he was going to slip out of consciousness again at any second. He would allow himself to do so too, just as soon as he found out what the hell was going on.

'You're in the catacombs.' She said, knowing what he was trying to ask. 'I'm pretty sure you've given yourself a concussion judging from how hard you fell.'

' _Fell_?' Clopin repeated, trying desperately to form a proper sentence in his head. 'Why did I fall?'

'It looks like you've got a nasty injury on your side. Do you remember how it happened?'

'What? No, I-' He cut himself off promptly as the fog in his mind cleared and everything suddenly came flooding back to him, remembering the Festival and Esmeralda and Frollo and Phoebus and-

He sat up sharply, probably faster than he should have judging from Clair's gasp and the pang in his side, looking around at the mud and stone of the catacombs. There was no sign of anything, or anyone, else. Just the graves, the rocks, Clair and himself.

'Where's Esmeralda?' He asked, hoping he'd masked the panic he was feeling. Panic because all the Guards were looking for Esmeralda. Panic because he'd sent her off by herself. Panic because there was no sign of her right now.

Clair looked bewildered, 'I don't know, I haven't seen her since... well, after you all left for the Festival.' She informed, and her expression turned grave. 'Apparently, she caused quite the bit of trouble, everyone is rather angry, and we all...'

Clopin stopped listening at some point during her spiel, his mind drifting to other important things. He could hardly care right now what everyone else was thinking. Esmeralda was missing, that was his main priority, regardless of how angry people were with her. What happened at the Festival would have unpleasant consequences, that much was certain, but he would deal with that and her when she was safe again. Until then, she was at the top of his list.

He knew she wouldn't have been captured because they would have heard something by now; the Soldier's loved to gloat and gossip when they jailed a Rom. However, if the Guards had somehow caught up to her on her way back to the Court, she was clever enough that she would have found somewhere to hide until they had passed, but where? Where would she have taken sanctuary? Where could she possibly-

' _Sanctuary_.' Clopin muttered out loud, interrupting his own train of thought and Clair's monologue ( _which was apparently still going on_ ) as he turned the word over in his mouth.

'You're not even listening, are you?' Clair said somewhere.

Could she have gone to the Notre Dame? It was highly likely; the Cathedral was safe and secure and neither the Soldier's or Frollo could touch her whilst she remained there, and she knew that. Besides, where else could she be? There was no way of really knowing until he went and looked for himself, and he was going to do exactly that.

'I need to go to Notre Dame.' Clopin said finally, grabbing ahold of a loose piece of rock in the wall in order to pull himself onto his feet, followed closely by a scrambling Clair.

'What? Why on Earth do you need-'

'I don't have time to explain,' he interrupted, 'I just have to go, now.'

'You are in no fit state to go anywhere. You're hurt, Clopin, you need medical attention.' She urged, moving forward to take his arm, but he was a lot faster than her - even in his injured state. He pulled himself away before her arm had even lifted.

'Don't be ridiculous, I'm fine.' He waved a hand at her dismissively, refusing to acknowledge the fact he had just been unconscious several moments beforehand. 'It's just a scratch and I have far more important things to be concerned with right now.' He said, matter-of-factly, not looking at her as he began to pull himself towards the entrance of the catacombs with every intention to leave and go to the Cathedral.

Apparently, however, Clair had other ideas.

'Clopin Trouillefou, get back here _now_.' She ordered, her arms folded and an expression appearing on her face that could have curdled the blood of the Archdeacon himself. Clopin immediately came to halt as soon as he'd picked up the tone of her voice, his feet glueing to the ground as he turned to look back at her. He felt his teeth grinding behind a closed mouth, feeling like a child being berated by a cross parent, but subconsciously he knew better than to ignore her.

'I understand you are worried about Esmeralda, but she is a grown woman now. She can look after herself, which is more than I can say about you right now.' She huffed as she stepped over to him once again, purposely ignoring the scowl he was giving her and grabbed the arm of his shirt. 'Now go back to the Court, or I will drag you there.'

She wasn't kidding either; when he still made no attempt to move she didn't hesitate to yank on his shirt and begin walking, hauling him along with her. It was at this point that he finally gave in, pulling himself out of her grip in aggravation.

'Alright, I'm going.' He surrendered reluctantly, starting to walk himself towards the Court, silently thanking the God he didn't believe in that nobody had been around to see that rather pathetic scene. He would never have heard the end of it.

He must have clearly been struggling, as Clair was beside him within seconds, taking one of his arms to help support his walking. She didn't say anything about it, knowing his pride was probably already suffering enough at this point, but she still wanted to help him. He allowed himself to smile briefly, making a mental reminder in his head to thank her later on, when he wasn't in such a foul mood and when he could blame his sentiments on alcohol or tobacco. After all, he hadn't exactly shown much gratitude for her help.

Clair was one of the only people, aside from Esmeralda, who knew him well, and knew he wasn't the kind of person who wore his heart on his sleeve. She had always been there for him, and as much as he tried to show his appreciation to her, he could never seem to find the words unless he'd had several bottles of alcohol forced into his system. Though, she probably already knew he was thankful; she could read him like a book. He was practically her son, and she was practically his mother, and had been ever since his parents-

He choked abruptly as the memory came into his mind, shaking his head.

( _no, don't think about that._ )

He managed to get a grip on himself fairly quickly, and when the thought faded again, he realised they were already back in the Court. Clair had released her grip on him slightly so he could walk by himself, knowing he didn't want people to see him looking so weak, which he really didn't. However, she did tug his sleeve towards the direction of her own caravan, indicating that is where she wanted him to go, which he complied to silently. The sooner he could get patched up and rested, the sooner he could go and look for Esmeralda.

Once inside the caravan, he sat down on her bed as Clair pulled out a large box of medical supplies, laying them out beside him.

'Right then, let's get that wound looked at.'

* * *

'Esmeralda is to blame for all of this,' Dominik piped up once again for the hundredth time that night, the man sitting forward at the table they were all currently sat around, 'she should be the one to face the consequences, regardless of whether or not what she said was right.'

'But she was right.' Hanzi argued, his expression filled with frustration. 'Frollo has oppressed us for too long, and all we do about it is complain! At least she had the decency to try and do something about it.'

'Stupidly speaking out in a moment of blind courage is not 'doing something about it', it's making it _worse_!' Dominik scowled, hands on the table now as if to stress his anger.

'We don't know that Nik,' Another new voice spoke up, an elderly man with a long white beard by the name of Ephriam, addressed him directly, 'Esmeralda's actions could have no repercussions whatsoever. We cannot banish her on the premise of her doing one wrong thing.'

' _One wrong thing_?! This is not the first problem she has caused!' Dominik stood up finally, almost knocking his chair back, a vein visibly swelling in his forehead. 'How many times have we had to pay off the Guards after she has been arrested? And how many times does she still go out and dance in the streets without-'

'What the girl wants to do in her own time is no concern of yours, Dominik.' Ephriam said, arching a thick brow at him, 'I'm sure I remember you doing plenty of things in your youth that we could have banished you for.' He chuckled softly, which seemed to shut Dominik up for the time being, as he lowered himself back into his chair with a grumble.

Niamh, who sat beside him, cleared her throat softly, 'I agree with Nik.' She said, surprising everyone at the table. 'We're at risk enough as it is. I think... banishment is a step too far, but even still, she should be punished somehow for her insolence.'

There was a long hum of silence that lasted for an uncomfortable amount of time, in which they all seemed to quietly agree with her, but there were still some uneasy expressions at the table.

Hanzi looked up to the head of the table, 'What do you think, Clopin? You've been very quiet.'

Clopin had been sat at the top of the table ever since the meeting had started, tapping his fingers against the wood and brooding quietly in his chair. He really hadn't seen a point in this meeting; he'd spent the entire evening listening to everyone's complaints, and he was slowly reaching his wit's end. As soon as Clair had stitched up his wound and bandaged him and sent him on his way, he had been immediately bombarded with angry people, all desperate to tell him their opinion on Esmeralda's oratory at the Festival.

As much as he wanted to listen to his people and resolve any qualms they might have had, once people began to suggest banishing her from the Romani compound, he'd stopped listening. It was an absolutely ridiculous notion, and although he was angry at Esmeralda himself, there was no way he would ever consider sending her away.

When his name was called, he finally stopped tapping his fingers and brought his eyes up to meet the others who stared back at him, waiting for an answer. He said nothing for a while, before nodding his head towards Niamh approvingly.

'Like I said before, Esmeralda will be dealt with when she is returned.' He said, his tone daring anyone to try and challenge him. 'I am the one who decides on the punishments, and I will give them out accordingly. The only concern you all should have is bringing her back to the Court safely.'

'We're not risking lives to go and save her when she put us all in jeopardy in the first place.' Dominik scowled, finally starting up again. He was pissing Clopin off to no end.

'Remind me, Dominik, who exactly gives the orders here?' Clopin asked, with a slight tilt of the head. The man's face twisted in anger, eyes narrowing as he looked back at him.

'You do.'

'Correct. Now stop your whining, or get out.' He smiled, gesturing towards the exit of the tent, no longer in the mood for his constant yapping. Dominik said nothing at first, only continued to glare at him, before he stood up in one swift movement and walked out of the tent without another word, sending the room back into silence.

Clopin sighed contently, 'Does anyone else have any problems with my decision?' He asked, looking around at the remaining people at the table, who just shook their heads in response. He stood up, ' _Bien_. Now, Hanzi, you and Lucas will come with me to find Esmeralda, go and find him and prepare yourself. The rest of you are dismissed.'

As soon as his orders were given, they all stood up and proceeded to exit the tent one at a time, until the only remaining people were himself and Niamh, who had lingered by the table whilst the others left.

'You realise you're being reckless?' She asked, alerting him that she was still there as he brought his head up to look at her. 'By going after her like this?'

'We would do the same for anyone else. Regardless of what she did, she's still one of us, and we don't leave one of our own behind.' He stated firmly, turning away from her so he could gather his things. Another long silence spread in the tent, in which she just continued to stare at him as he purposely ignored her.

'You know, a good King would not allow personal feelings to affect his duties.' She said suddenly, causing him to stop and face her again.

'What?'

'Oh please, Florica is my _meilleur ami_ , you think she doesn't tell me everything that happens to her?' She smirked wickedly towards him, her arms folded across her chest. Clopin's eyes widened slightly as he realised what she was talking about, and Niamh stifled a laugh. 'Don't worry, I wasn't planning on telling anyone, but just know that if you keep letting your emotions affect your actions, things will not end well for you.'

'I know what I'm doing.' Clopin said simply, brushing off her words.

'If you say so.' She laughed, stepping over to him and pausing just in front of him. 'Just remember, even one small weakness can bring a good leader down. Your father's weakness was what destroyed him, don't let yours do the same.' She warned, before leaning up on her toes to kiss his cheek and leaving without another word.

Clopin watched her go, his mind blagged and tired, considering her words carefully. He stayed there for a while, staring at the place where she had been before suddenly another figure appeared in the entrance there.

Hanzi, now armed, looked up at him, 'Ready?' He asked, moving slightly to reveal Luca behind him. Clopin blinked at their abrupt appearance, before reaching for his sword beside him and sheathing it in one fluid motion, nodding his head.

'Let's go.'

* * *

Clopin pushed back the large stone that covered the entrance of the catacombs in the _Cimetiere des Innocents_ , slotting it to the side so that Luca, Hanzi and himself could all climb out. The Court had been cleverly concealed inside a hollowed out tomb, which Clopin himself had discovered a few years back when scouring the catacombs. He'd decided it would be perfect; after all, who would ever think the entire Romani compound was hiding beneath a small gravestone?

Once the stone was back in place, the three men made their way out of the cemetery silently, their faces concealed by the black hoods and cloaks they had dawned.

It was dark, extremely so, as long as they stayed quiet they stood a good chance of grabbing Esmeralda without drawing any attention to themselves. That was, of course, if she was even there. He had no idea if she really had run to Notre Dame, though he was praying she had. If she had somehow been caught by the soldiers, they weren't manned enough for a rescue mission, and even with the others, it would be risky.

He shook the thought away dismissively, she was smarter than that, there was no way she would have allowed herself to be caught; she'd been running from the law her entire life, and thus she knew how to dodge them by now. The Cathedral was the only place she could be, and he was confident in himself.

Sneaking through alleyways and sharp corners, hiding from every source of light or noise, the men slowly made their way through the streets of Paris towards where the city square resided. It had been mere hours since the Festival had ended, and yet all signs of colour and beauty and happiness that had originally filled the town were now nowhere to be seen, the familiar gloominess and darkness surrounding them once again.

Even the outside of the Cathedral was now completely empty, ( _aside from the large groups of soldiers_ ), the stage and flag poles and streamers all missing. They'd probably been taken down on Frollo's orders as soon as Esmeralda had pulled her little stunt and they had all-

( _wait_ )

Clopin did a double take towards Notre Dame, finally registering the circle of Guards positioned at every possible entrance of the Cathedral, and drew in a sharp breath. Why the hell was it so heavily guarded? If memory served correctly, it was never usually like this, the Bishop himself very particular about the number of soldiers that could be allocated at one time.

Did that mean Esmeralda was inside? Did they know she was in there? Was Frollo that desperate to arrest her?

He snorted a laugh, reminding himself who exactly he was talking about here. The Archdeacon always got what he wanted, through whatever means necessary, of course, he would go this far.

'Clopin, what do we do now?' Luca asked behind him, his breathing rather heavy and irritating in his ear from how close he was standing.

'There's no way we can get past all those soldiers,' Hanzi said, sounding panicked, 'we have to turn back.'

Clopin ignored them for the time being, trying to think. There was no way he was leaving; it felt strangely like a challenge, and he was never one to turn down a challenge. Especially if the prize was saving Esmeralda and returning her home safely.

'Hanzi is right, we need to go back.'

'We'll come back with others, but right now we're sizably outnumbered.' Hanzi urged, but still, there was no response from their leader, so he shoved his arm in a split second's decision. 'Clopin, are you listening to me? We have to go.'

'Oh, _zip ta lèvre._ ' Clopin muttered, restraining the need to roll his eyes, his annoyed tone seeming to shut them both up for the moment. 'I can't think with your talking.'

He counted out all the soldiers he could see and struggled to contain a shudder when he counted thirty at the least, and they were just the ones he could see at the front of the building. In the back of his mind, he knew that Hanzi and Luca were right, there was no possible way the three of them could take on such a large group of soldiers, but it felt too much like defeat.

Reluctantly, he moved his gaze away from the building, ushering the other two back around the corner.

'Alright, you two go back to the Court. Inform the others about what we found here, if things haven't died down by the morning then we'll need as many men as possible.' Clopin instructed, turning a blind eye to the worried look on Hanzi's face.

'You're not coming with us?'

'No. I will stay here and look for an opening into the Cathedral, see if I can get her out myself.'

'Clo, that's too risky-'

'If I succeed then there is no need for fighting and bloodshed, especially if she isn't even in there in the first place.' Clopin huffed, staying jovial, but it didn't seem to ease the other's mind. 'I'll be less noticeable alone. Trust my judgement, for once.'

Hanzi laughed, shaking his head, 'I never trust your judgement, but I'll stick to your plan.' He agreed, before reaching out a hand and clamping his shoulder. 'Just stay vigilant.'

'Of course.' Clopin nodded, 'If I have not returned by tomorrow evening, send a party.'

'Got it.' He agreed, pulling his hood back over his head and rushing back down the alleyway they came from, Luca in toll behind him.

Clopin watched them until they disappeared around the corner and from sight, before turning his attention back to the Cathedral. He could already tell it was going to be a long night. He grabbed a hold of the ledge of the window on the building he was hiding behind and used it to pull himself up towards the roof, climbing until his feet were firmly planted on the top. He walked along the centre of the roof carefully, looking at the looming Cathedral, which looked almost black in the dark light. He stopped beside the chimney of the house and sat down beside it, letting his legs dangle off the edge of the roof.

Then, he waited.

Clopin stayed put on the roof of the house for what felt like hours, hiding from soldiers that walked this way and that way, watching the entrances like a hawk for any chance to slip past them and get inside. He hadn't really accounted for how cold it would get, but right now he was absolutely freezing; his thin clothes and cloak were only able to shelter him so much from the cold January air.

Light flickered from within Notre Dame, brilliantly golden, and suddenly Clopin became desperate to get inside for another reason; warmth. Even a candle would help in this bitter wind, and he could wager there were plenty inside of the Cathedral.

His back met the hard stone of the chimney behind him, and he grimaced at the rock that he could now feel digging into his skin. Still, it was better than nothing, and if he was going to be here for a while he would at least try to relax and get comfortable. With his legs now spread out in front of him, he found himself wanting the comfort of a bottle in his hand, anything that could help speed this process along. Had he of known this was how the night would have run its course, he would have plucked his most alcoholic mixture from his drawers to ease his boredom.

But then, what help would he be to Esmeralda when the time came? If she was even in there, that is. He had been so sure this would be where she would come that he hadn't even stopped to think of all the other possibilities. However, with so many Guards positioned around the Cathedral, there was no doubt that she was in there, unless some other fugitive and escaped and ran into-

 _ **BANG!**_

Clopin was on his feet within seconds of hearing the crash, reflexively pulling the sword from his sheath, with a satisfying ' _chhk_ ' noise, in case any danger would be suddenly pointed in his direction. The scurry of clanking armour and loud shouts could be heard as the soldiers began to move from their positions around the Cathedral to investigate the noise, the flickering beams of light from the torches they carried highlighting the path they were taking.

( _Perfect._ )

Finally, an opportunity. There was no telling how much of a window he had; how long the Guards would spend snooping around - he had to move fast. He returned his sword to the sheath within the folds of his cape and used his other hand to yank the hood of his cloak further over his head, hiding his face from the cold and from any soldiers who might spot him. With one last check of the area, he took a step towards the Cathedral...

...and immediately stopped once he heard a familiar voice nearby.

He crouched down low on the roof to try and indicate where exactly the voices were coming from, fingers lingering uncertainty on the hilt of his sword. His ears and eyes focused on the alleyway just beneath the rooftop he stood upon, where two figures were running out of sight from a passing group of soldiers, dodging around a corner to take shelter. Both figures were instantaneously recognisable, from the black hair and colourful clothes of the woman and the hunched back and panicked expression of the slightly smaller man.

'That was too close.' He heard Esmeralda breathe, her from slumping against the brick of the building they hid behind, 'Do you think they saw us?'

'No, no. Safe now,' Quasimodo nodded, turning his head away from where he'd been double checking and taking one of her hands in his own huge palms, 'but you must go before Master finds out.'

'Yes, I will, I promise, but...' She hesitated, looking torn, 'I can't just leave you here, Quasi. Are you sure you won't come with me? We will keep you safe, I swear.'

'I can't. Master needs me. The bells need me.' He shook his big head agitatedly, the idea of leaving seeming preposterous to him.

( _Stockholm Syndrome_ ), a voice said in Clopin's head.

Esmeralda shifted her weight anxiously, before reaching over a hand and placing it on the centre of his chest gently, 'Alright, but remember what I told you. Should you ever need me, you know how to find me.'

Her voice was soft and gentle when she spoke to him, and Clopin wondered what exactly she had told him before they'd ran from the Cathedral. Maybe he could ask her.

Quasimodo squeezed her hand tightly, 'Yes, yes, now go quickly before they come.' He encouraged, gesturing to the street she should run through. She went to do just that but hesitated once again as she stepped back and placed a kiss on the top of his head. She gave him a reassuring smile, before rushing off and disappearing behind the corner, leaving Quasimodo watching after her.

Clopin watched him limp back towards Notre Dame after he'd made sure she'd gone and sighed quietly to himself; perhaps he had judged the boy to quickly, he made a mental reminder to himself to thank him sometime in the future - but not now. Now, he needed to get after Esmeralda, and fast.

He hurried quickly to the edge of the roof where he had climbed up before and scrambled back down it as quick as he could using the guttering he had used the first time up. In his rush he hadn't anticipated how slippery it would be and found himself tumbling to the floor on the last step, cringing inwardly at the large thud when his body collided with the cold stone. It was painful, to say the least, especially with the infliction on his still-recovering-injury, but he would have to brush it aside for now. There were far more important matters at hand.

Dusting the dirt from his pant legs, he began to lift himself up, just in time to spot the large wooden beam that was being swung in the direction of his head.

Never in his life had he shrieked so high.

He thanked his lucky stars for his good reflexes, pretty sure that it would have been strong enough to knock him clean out, but luckily he'd ducked down just in the nick of time. He felt around in his cloak for his sword, having every intention of striking down whoever had just attempted to hit him, as his eyes finally landed on Esmeralda's angry looking face staring straight down at him.

'Wha-' She gasped, suddenly realising who she'd nearly clocked, dropping the beam somewhere besides her, ' _Clopin_? What the hell are you doing here?'

'Finding you.' He muttered, releasing his grip on his sword with more relief than he was willing to show on his face and using his now spare hand to pull himself up from the floor. 'I've been trying to find a way into the Cathedral for hours. I didn't expect you to just waltz out.'

'I thought you were a Guard, I could have knocked you out.' She grimaced, watching the dirt and small bits of rock fall of his clothes as he beat them down. 'Why were you on the roof?'

'I was trying to get a good vantage point, it's hard to see anything from the-' He stopped himself immediately as he finally allowed himself to look at her properly, his eyes scanning over every inch of her, knowing something was off. The material at the sides of her dress was torn, as was the sleeve of her right wrist, where dark angry marks tinted the surface of her skin beneath what was left of the fabric. More angry bruises lingered at the sides of her neck, which she'd cleverly tried to conceal with her messy hair. A good attempt, but nothing got past him.

Esmeralda opened her mouth, most probably to ask what he was looking at, but he stepped forward before he could and pushed her hair behind her ear to get a better view of the marks on her neck. She visibly flinched when he got close, but didn't push him away, simply tilted her head to the side so he could see clearer - there was no point in hiding it from him now. His fingers traced them gently, careful not to be too rough, trying to see how far they continued. Luckily, they seemed to stop at the hem of her collar, but even still Clopin could hear his teeth grinding in his mouth.

He could practically _smell_ Frollo all over her.

'What did he do to you?' He asked, hoping he'd masked the anger in his voice. She looked just as tired as he felt, and this was not a time for raised voices or outbursts of anger. He could save that for the Archdeacon.

'Not what you're thinking.' She reassured gently, her voice quiet and soft, had he not been standing so close he probably wouldn't have heard her. 'He became angry when he realised he couldn't force me out, but that didn't mean he was going to leave me alone. He followed me around the Cathedral, keeping an eye on me, and at one point he.. grabbed me, he kept telling me how much he wanted to see a rope around my neck.'

Her own fingers found the marks that he had been brushing over, shivering in disgust, ' _Je ne suis pas stupide_ , I know what he was really thinking about.'

Clopin felt every word she spoke fueling the already burning fire of hatred inside of him; he could feel it engulfing all the common sense inside of him that was holding him back from storming into the Cathedral and running the Archdeacon through with his own cross. He felt pain jolt up his wrists as he became aware of his nails digging into his skin from his whitened, clenched fists, and took a deep breath to steady himself. Esmeralda must have noticed too because her fingers suddenly entwined with his and separated them slowly from his palms.

'Clo, I'm alright, really. A lot worse could have happened.' She tried, knowing whatever more she said would just add to the flame. 'I'm fine, you're fine, and that's all that matters.'

'Esmeralda, he hurt you.'

'A few bruises doesn't matter to me, let's just be thankful I wasn't arrested.' Her hands squeezed his own when he still didn't respond, and she found herself fighting hard to keep back the tears in her eyes, and Clopin became suddenly aware she did not need revenge right now. She needed comfort.

He swallowed down the anger building inside of him, and within seconds his arms were wrapped around her waist, smoothing a hand along her back comfortingly. She practically collapsed into his arms, her head buried at his shoulder and her hands interlinked behind his head, her shaking ceasing almost instantly after she fell into his embrace.

'I'm glad you're safe.' He whispered gently. It seemed to be the only thing that was important right now. He'd thought, upon seeing her, that he would be furious with her for all of the havoc and commotion she had caused at the Festival; but now with her safe and secure in his arms, he was just happy she was alive and well.

'I could say the same to you.' She said, her head pulling back from his shoulder to meet his gaze as one of her hands slid down his chest, down to his stomach to where she knew his wound was, laying her palm there gently. Clopin wasn't sure what had made him shiver more, the trail of her fingers or the gentle pressure on his injury.

'I'm so sorry I didn't help you,' her head hung lowly, just watching her hand pressed at his stomach, 'as soon as I'd run there were soldiers on my tail, I had to go straight to the Cathedral. I was so worried, I didn't even know if you were alive until Phoebus told me he'd let you go.'

Clopin paused, ' _Phoebus_? The Captain?'

'Yes, he was the one who found me in the Cathedral originally. I thought he was going to force me out but he... actually abided to the rules of Sanctuary, surprisingly.' She smiled up at him, 'We talked for a while since he couldn't arrest me. I asked him about you and he told me he let you escape.'

'What else did you talk about?' He asked, a little too quickly, hoping the jealousy he felt wasn't showing in his voice. The smile on Esmeralda's face indicated that it did.

'You're too protective, Clopin.' She said, with more fondness than annoyance, luckily. 'I'm not a child anymore; I can talk to whomever I please.'

He could hear his teeth grinding once again, but said nothing. 'And the Hunchback? He helped you?'

'I told you he was noting like Frollo,' she stated, with all the pride she could muster, 'he was very eager to help me after we helped him at the Festival. He found a way down the statues so I could get out without being seen.'

'I guess I owe him, then.' He smiled briefly, before taking an anxious glance towards the Cathedral, realising they were still dangerously close to the Soldiers.

'Come on; let's get you out of here.' He extended a hand towards her, which she took eagerly, as they both began to flee the square before anyone could see them.

They didn't stop running until they were a good six streets away from the Cathedral, and it was only at this point that Clopin let go of Esmeralda's hand so they could catch her breath by the riverside they had stopped at. Clopin leant himself against a wall of a nearby building once he was sure they weren't being followed; usually running wouldn't have taken this much out of him, but he let himself off on this one occasion on the premise he was technically still recovering.

Esmeralda turned to him once her breath was back, an expression of worry on her features, 'I take it I'm not exactly popular in the Court at the minute?' She asked, as innocently as possible, smoothing down her creased dress.

'That's one way to look at it,' Clopin grinned, 'however, some people were talking of exilé last I heard.'

Esmeralda scoffed, 'They want to banish me for standing up for what I believe in? For actually doing something? It's not my fault none of them have ever bothered to do anything.'

'Es, you put all of us in danger. A lot of people are angry at you,' he took a beat, 'including me.'

She looked up at him, staring at him as if he'd gone mad, 'Seriously, Clo? Do you think I should be banished as well?'

'No, of course not.' He scowled, the thought alone was enough to anger him. 'Even still, your actions had and will have severe consequences. Some form of punishment is in order.'

' _Punishment_?'

'Yes, Esme. You know what you did was wrong, you have to-'

'Alright, spare me the lecture, okay?' She interrupted, her hands held up in surrender, looking just as exasperated as she sounded. 'If everyone thinks I should be punished, for doing nothing wrong, then that's what has to happen.'

Clopin sighed in relief, 'Thank you.'

'Just not tonight,' she added, her expression unreadable, 'I've been through enough for one day. I'll take whatever punishment you decide is necessary, but tomorrow. _Please_.'

'Es, the whole Court is waiting for us to return, the second we get back they're going to want to deal with you.' He said, begrudgingly. He understood her reluctance to deal with more problems today, of course, he did, but he could vouch the others would not be so understanding.

After a beat of silence, she looked up at him again, 'Then let's not go back yet.'

'What? Where would we go?'

' _Je ne sais pas_.' She frowned, bringing up a hand to press fingers into her temples tiredly, clearly stumped for ideas. Clopin could see exhaustion all over her face and knew she was in no state of mind to deal with the problem tonight; so he would wrack his brain to think of something.

There weren't many places that they would be able to hide out in for the night; all the safe houses that he'd set up for the Romani were on the other side of Notre Dame, where all the soldiers were still patrolling. They'd been ridiculously lucky to not be spotted the first time around, and Clopin didn't feel like tempting fate by trying to sneak past again.

Taverns and brothels were always a good place to hide, and there were plenty scattered around Paris that he had heavy influence in, even a few where he had a room specifically for him in case he ever needed a place to hide. Clopin provided sufficient funding for the businesses and paid off soldiers to leave the land where they resided alone, and so he was more than welcome to go in and claim a room for the night. However, at this time of the evening, he could wager a lot of the Court's members would have proceeded to the taverns to indulge in their nightly routines, and would more than likely notice Esmeralda being brought in - if they were sober enough, that is.

It was late enough that most of them would probably have had enough drinks by this point to keep their minds occupied, and Clopin could always pay off the bartender to keep schtum.

Outside of his thought process, Esmeralda stood at the sidelines watching him and found herself smiling uncontrollably as she could practically see the gears turning in his head. She half wondered if he was even aware of how much he was pacing.

After a few more moments, Clopin finally brought himself to a stop and turned back to Esmeralda with a large grin, 'Fancy a drink?'

'Why? Where were you thinking?'

'La Pomme D'ev. We can hide out there, have a few drinks and stay in the back until you're ready to go back to the Court.' He said, proudly, arching a singular eyebrow towards her, 'Sound good?'

'Perfect, let's go.' She agreed, joining him by his side as he began to walk in the direction of the tavern. She chanced a look up to him, 'You know, you pace when you're thinking?'

'What? No, I don't.' He frowned, as if the very idea was ludicrous for some reason, bringing Es to the conclusion that he really wasn't aware of it. She bit back a giggle and looped her arm through his, linking him to stay close as they walked through the dark streets.

Clopin savoured the close contact, and tightened his own grip around her arm almost protectively, beyond glad to have her back by his side once again. It may have only been a few hours, but knowing she was safe once again was a comfort. He was reluctant to ever let go of her arm again.

 _'You're too protective, Clopin.'_

Maybe that was true, after all.

It wasn't long before the shining lights and faint music of the nearby tavern was on display to them as they turned the corner to the block where it stood, and Clopin was already grinning as he felt the energy and life humming from within, always loving the atmosphere that came from the Romani taverns.

It was so much different than the usual, boring ones. Where the Pagans enjoyed sharing stories of the battlefield and gambling all their money away, the Rom revelled in music and dance and song - nothing compared to the feeling of being with his people and listening t the music they played, and this particular tavern was a testament to it.

La Pomme D'ev. It was old and wooden, with the crooked sign hanging outside and swaying in the night breeze. How many memories had he made in this tavern? It seemed almost impossible to recall. This was the first place his father had brought him outside of their old settlement when he was just a boy, and where he'd watched him drink all their money away. It was where he'd had his first drink; where he'd met his first childhood crush, and where he'd fucked his first childhood crush. It was the first tavern he'd ever brought Esmeralda to, and the first place she'd danced publicly for people. She'd gotten so much money for it that, after she'd finished, she and Clopin had gone out and brought a chocolate cake from the boulangerie, which was something of a delicacy for them.

If his memory served him correctly, this was also the first place he and Esmeralda had ever kissed.

It had happened when one of the men in the tavern, whom Esmeralda was courting at the time, had been caught cheating on her with one of the courtesans. She'd been absolutely grief-stricken, and, after Clopin had made sure to kick him to the curb, he'd taken her into one of the back rooms to try and calm her down. It was here that, in the process of trying to comfort her, she'd leant over and kissed him.

It had been awkward and clumsy and wet, with the tears and his uncertainty of the situation and her inexperience. He half wondered when she had suddenly become so good at things like that, and who taught her, and then mentally decided he didn't like whoever it had been. He shook his head at himself absently, damn his jealousy.

He slowly came back to reality as fingers suddenly snapped in front of his face and made him aware that they had reached the door, and followed the fingers down to Esmeralda's face who was frowning up at him.

'Are you alright? You zoned out for a minute there.' She observed, and Clopin noticed the worry in her tone almost fondly.

'Fine, _cherie_. Just thinking.' He shrugged off absently, before reaching out for the handle of the door and opening it for her, 'After you.'

She smiled her gratitude up to him and headed inside of the tavern, and he quickly made a point to shake the thoughts he'd been having out of his head, before following suit.

The inside of the tavern was exactly what he expected it to be; the place was full with people singing and drinking, dancing on tabletops and around the fire. A band played in the corner of the room, the sounds of drums and flutes and violins sounding around the tavern, as people sang along to the tune. As he'd guessed, everyone looked preoccupied in their merriment and drinking to even notice them, and even if they did, he was sure they were all intoxicated enough to have forgotten about everything that had happened this morning.

Clopin found Esmeralda's hand again and took it, and lead her towards a table at the back of the room away from the large crowds. He sat her down at one of the seats and smiled down at her.

'What would you like to drink?' He asked, and she simply shrugged her shoulders in response.

'Whatever you're having.' She decided, shooting him a grin, which he returned before gliding away from the table and towards the bar. Esmeralda found herself laughing as he moved, it was him all over; she recalled him once saying ' _never walk if you can glide, leap, dance... or even fall_.'

Miraculously, Clopin managed to get the tray of drinks back to the table without being knocked over by the countless people dancing around the room, and managed to bring back the several half-pints without spilling a drop. He looked immensely proud of himself as he took a seat opposite her, placing down the first two of the many drinks in front of them.

Clopin held up his glass and locked eyes with her, ' _À votre santé_.'

' _À la tienne_.' She responded cheerfully, meeting his glass with hers. It made a pleasant ' _clink_ ' sound in the middle before they both took their first drink. Esmeralda frowned down at it, pulling a face. 'This is strong.'

'Well, of course,' Clopin grinned, 'the stronger the better.'

He took another swig, before setting his glass down as Es continued to glare down at her drink, trying to get accustomed to the taste. Clopin took this opportunity to look around the tavern, make sure there was no one around who would hound on Esmeralda as soon as they saw her. It appeared pretty much alright, and there was no one around whom Clopin would have considered a threat. A few familiar faces, but no sign of Dominik or anyone of that calibre.

Whilst looking around, however, he did notice that some of the women of the tavern had turned their attention towards him, and a few even waved and shouted to him as he looked their way. He had to restrain the urge to roll his eyes, hating the fact he was getting attention already. It may have sounded big headed of him, but it happened in every single tavern he went to - and it wasn't because of him, it was because of his title.

It was commonly known that Clopin, as the Court's sole leader, held large influence among Paris within the Romani compounds and businesses, and by default, most of the funding. Not that he ever saw any of it, he only took what he needed to get by for himself, and the rest was spent on keeping everyone fed, safe and happy. These days there was hardly even enough for him to take for his own, with the price of supplies and the Court's numbers increasing. However no one else knew this, and so he was seen as quite wealthy.

This meant that on the occasions he was seen in public, the Court's women liked to take their chance with him. They saw it as more of an investment, a way to get more money to improve their own lives, rather than trying to establish a relationship, and it drove Clopin mad. Everyone's intentions were always so obvious, and this annoying factor was probably one of the main reasons why Clopin had never really allowed himself into a proper relationship. He'd had the occasional fling every now and then, but it had never amounted to anything more than that.

Esmeralda had followed his gaze to the women scattered around the bar and felt herself smirk, knowing exactly what was going through his head. She knew that look on his face too well. As much as Clopin tried to participate with the other men, he always seemed to look bored, never as interested as the other's seemed to be. It was why she'd always made jokes about his sexuality; how girls, other than herself, never seemed to get his motor running. Of course, she knew that was never the case, he just had a refined taste when it came to this.

He loved people's personalities; he'd always admired cleverness and brains over beauty and good looks. The women in the taverns hounded him because he was the King because he was the one who could provide them with the most. It was what he hated, she knew that, and she was the same. Perhaps it was why they enjoyed each other's company so much; she didn't spend time with him because he was the King, and he didn't spend time with her just because she was the famous dancer. They just... enjoyed one another's company.

Clopin finally brought his gaze back to his glass with a look of exasperation, and Es smirked, 'Not enjoying the attention?'

'Not particularly. I guess I haven't had enough to drink yet.' He excused, and she just smiled further, calling his bluff but playing along for his sake as she watched him reach for the next drink.

'Is that your plan? Keep drinking until you don't notice?'

'They're only halves.'

'Yes, but they add up to _wholes_ , and you are a lightweight.' She pointed out, sly.

'I can hold my drink better than you.' He grumbled, and she just laughed softly, a beautiful melodic sound that warmed his insides.

'Famous last words.' She warned before she drank the rest of her first drink happily. Clopin just shot her a smirk but didn't say anything, and it seemed his heart wasn't completely in a comeback either. Es couldn't help but notice his sudden shift in mood.

'Are you alright?' She asked, watching him worriedly.

'Hm? Mm.' Was his response, which wasn't particularly helpful in any way, shape or form, but she took it as a sign that he was just distracted. He probably didn't want to talk about whatever he was thinking.

'Do you think I'm like my father?' He suddenly asked as he considered the glass in his hands. Esmeralda looked up, startled, apparently, she'd been wrong.

'Where did that come from?'

'I don't know,' he sighed, 'I guess it's just been on my mind lately and... I haven't been able to stop thinking about it.'

Her expression shifted, 'Clo if this is because of what I said at the Festival, I-'

'No, no, don't be silly.' He reassured, giving her a smile that told her not to worry. 'It's nothing to do with that.'

'Well, what do you mean?' She asked, keeping her voice soft, knowing she had to proceed with caution. Clopin and his father was a tricky subject, she had to tread carefully from here on out.

'I mean... he wasted himself in taverns, always looking at people from the end of a bottle. He drank himself into debt and death. It was because of him that everyone, including us, had to give up our homes and pack up our lives. He let everyone down.' He frowned, looking up at her, suddenly looking very tired. 'Do you think I will be the same?'

'What? Of course not, Clo. You are twice the man he ever as.' She reassured, leaning over and taking his hand. 'You are a great leader. You were made King at such a young age and yet you still managed to find us a new home, keep us fed and safe, and you have continued to do so to this day. You are nothing like your father.' She said with confidence, giving his hand a light squeeze. He managed a small nod, seeming a bit more reassured, though not completely.

It wasn't often he opened up about these kinds of things, and it worried her; she half wondered how much he was willing to talk right now.

'Do you think about him a lot?'

'More than I'd like to.' He admitted, staring down at their entwined hands on the table.

She hesitated, 'Do you miss him?'

' _No_.' He growled, with more defiance than anger. 'Not at all. He may have been my father, but... we were better off when he was gone.'

'...What about your mother?' She asked, biting the inside of his mouth harshly as she saw something change in his eyes, and immediately regretted asking. In situations like this, he tended to lash out, leave the room or excuse himself to do something else. It wasn't his fault, of course, it was just a hard subject for him.

'I miss her.' He said slowly, much to her surprise, watching as he seemed to zone out. 'Not a day goes by when I don't think about her.'

'She was a wonderful woman.' She smiled gently, still anxious about what she was saying. 'You don't take after your father at all, Clopin, but you do take after your mother.'

He smiled up at her, nodding in appreciation, 'Thank you.' He said quietly, bringing himself back to reality again, watching her now. 'Do you think about your parents all?'

'Not really,' she messed with her sleeve absently, 'they died a long time ago. I was barely old enough to remember, I can't really miss people I didn't know.' She shrugged, 'Though, I wish I had known them. That I had any sort of memory of them. I think about that a lot, I guess, but... if there really is Heaven, then I'm sure I'll meet them one day.'

'That's a nice way of looking at it.' He nodded, smiling at her, admiring her positivity. No matter what problem she seemed to face, she always had some way of finding the good side to everything. It was, yet another, quality that he loved about her.

There heads both went up as someone could be heard shouting her name, and they both relaxed when they saw it was one of Esmeralda's friends calling her from the corner. Clopin took a breath, realising his grip on her hand had tightened, pulling his arm back as she stood from her seat.

'Do you mind?' She asked, and he nodded.

'Of course not, I'll find something to do. Go, have fun.' He reassured, and he smiled as he watched her disappear towards the corner where he friends resided. Pulling himself up from his own chair, Clopin grabbed his tankard and began to walk around the tavern idly, looking for familiar faces or something to do.

It wasn't long before he was surrounded by a large group of people, all dancing and singing with him to the music the band played, the whole tavern filled with laughter at some of Clopin's dancing he did to entertain the crowd. He was glad they'd decided to come here; it had been a while since he'd allowed himself to join in with the festivities and fun in the taverns, and he was perfectly settled into his element of entertaining and singing and eliciting laughs from the crowd. His spirits had been lifted once again, and he could hardly remember what he'd been conflicted by earlier, the music and cheer were enough to make him forget about everything else.

After an hour or so and a few more drinks, Clopin heard the door of the tavern creak open and turned himself around towards it to greet whoever the newcomer was, all the drink had made him much merrier.

'Welcome, fri-' He cut himself off almost immediately upon seeing the men at the door, and his large grin was now nowhere to be seen. The Captain, Phoebus, stood in the doorway sorting out his clothes from the wind outside, and beside him, his Lieutenant stood, looking around in awe and excitement at where they were.

Clopin scowled softly, crossing to them, 'Ah, I'm sorry gentlemen, but... soldiers aren't welcome here.' He said sternly, gesturing back to the door.

'Oh, relax,' Phoebus grinned, boldly, lifting a fist to punch his shoulder, 'just looking for a little rest and recreation, for my good friend Frederik here as well.' He laughed, wrapping an arm around the younger man's shoulder and squeezing him tightly. Clopin hesitated, wary, before clearing his throat.

'Well, I'm sure we can arrange that.' He decided, reluctantly, looking around and spotting one of the various courtesans lingering near the bar, who he pointed in the direction of the Lieutenant. The woman came over and took his arm, pulling him towards the bar with a giggle, and he followed without question. Phoebus stepped up to Clopin, and clapped him on the shoulder again, making him grit his teeth.

'Actually, my friend, I'm looking for someone in particular.' He admitted, already lifting his head to scout amongst the groups of people. Clopin pulled himself out of the man's grip with a scoff, stepping away from him.

'And why doesn't that surprise me?' He grumbled, his whole tone dripping with sarcasm. He arched a singular brow at him and spoke without thinking, 'But... I'm afraid she's already spoken for.'

'Oh _really_ , Clopin?' A voice came from behind him, making Clopin bite his tongue and curse quietly under his breath as he turned around to face Esmeralda, who stood with her arms crossed. 'Nobody speaks for me.'

He paused momentarily, before stepping closer to her with urgency, 'I am only looking out for your own welfare.' He whispered, his tone serious and worried.

'I can look out for myself.' She retorted angrily, her own eyes narrowed in response.

Clopin scoffed in surprise at her, stepping back to look towards the Captain, his whole being on edge with this entire situation, but there was nothing else he could say. He held out his arms and bowed sarcastically to the pair, before marching away and disappearing between the crowd.

His fists were clenched at his sides, unable to believe the nerve on her; he had only been trying to look out for her. Soldiers and Romani had a bad history. Yes, perhaps this Captain was new to the scene, but they were all the same. Every single soldier Clopin had met through his life had been selfish, violent and cruel, especially towards his people. The previous Captain had once thrown several of the Court's children in the cells for simply trying to buy some bread from the bakery because he'd decided they were trying to steal it.

Esmeralda knew this, she'd had bad run-ins with soldier's herself, and yet here she was, willingly putting herself in harm's way.

Clopin decided to stay close by, the thought of Esmeralda being alone with the Captain suddenly made him very uneasy, and he wanted to keep on eye on her albeit her attitude. He sat at a table at the side of the room, concealed by shadows and the various other people dancing around the room, though he had clear sight of Esmeralda and Phoebus. They seemed to be just talking and did so for a while, and Clopin found himself relaxing slightly when he saw what seemed to just be a friendly conver-

 _They kissed_.

Clopin sat up straight in his seat. Phoebus turned Esmeralda around in his arms until he could no longer see her, but he could see Phoebus' arms around her waist and his head leant down to hers, as well as the large groups of people who were cheering and whistling around them. A pain shot through his chest, and it ached, it hurt more than anything he'd ever experienced. Clopin tore his gaze away, clutching at his chest weakly as he felt a burning in his lungs, and he desperately tried to draw in enough air to put it out.

He couldn't see them anymore, the crowds had gathered and grouped and his line of sight was now gone, but he didn't care. He didn't want to see. How could he look at her, tangled in the arms of another man, when all he wanted was to have her in his? It was painful, and he felt _silly_. He felt stupid - because he shouldn't care this much, it shouldn't affect him this much.

He'd practically been to Hell and back, and hardly batted an eyelid, and _this_ is what broke him?

( _pathetic_ )

It took several minutes, but he finally found some kind of strength in his legs again and stood from the table slowly. His legs were on autopilot, his mind was zoned out but his body knew where he needed to go. Outside, away from the noise and happiness. He needed air, more desperately than he ever had.

The old door groaned as it was swung open, and Clopin felt delirious when the cold wind hit his face, making his mouth go dry. He didn't know what he wanted to do, but he knew he wanted to do something, anything, to make this feeling go away. He needed to feel his heart pumping, needed to feel alive. He let his mind wander, and began to walk, not towards the Court, not back to the tavern, just... wherever his feet would take him.

* * *

 **Author's Notes:**

\- THIS WAS A LONG CHAPTER. Most of this stuff is prewritten off a story I wrote ages ago, so when I add a new bit in I'm stumped on it for ages (which is why this chapter is like five months late haha hi sorry)

\- We're hitting the heavy stuff, but don't worry the next chapter will be a bit more lighthearted (and maybe raunchy who knows)

\- I didn't know how serious the French were about toasting until researching it for this chapter! You know if you do it wrong you could end up with seven years of bad luck? It's actually quite interesting, go read about it!

\- Alright, so when I wrote this originally I used a lot of the conversations they had in the musical. So La Pomme D'ev comes from the tavern the Rom all hang out in during the (Tavern Song (Thai Mol Piyas)) (incredible song i bloody love it), and the scene between Phoebus and Clopin and Esmeralda happens just the same in the musical! I interpreted it originally as Clopin being jealous of how Esmeralda chooses Phoebus over him, and that's where this whole bloody story came from (fun fact). HOWEVER, the musical has been taken off YouTube (crying) so I have no idea if it's correct? The musical at La Jolla has different dialogue during the Tavern Song so... but oh well!

\- This story will be up on Archive soon, once I get my account working again! So if you prefer reading on that it should be up on there by August.

\- Also, I did some art for this chapter, go check it out on my tumblr! ( a-callipygian / link in bio ! )

 **THANKS FOR READING!**

 **French Translations (According to Google Translate):**

 _Bien_ / Good

 _Meilleur ami_ / Best friend

 _Cimetière des Innocents_ / The Holy Innocent's Cemetery (Fun Fact: This was an actual cemetery that existed in Paris until 1780, at which point it was closed due to there not being enough room left. The remaining corpses were moved into the Catacombs in 1786!)

 _Zip ta lèvre_ / Zip your lip

 _Je_ ne suis _pas_ stupide / I am not stupid

 _Exilé_ / Exile (or) Banishment

 _Je_ ne _sais pas_ / I don't know

 _Chérie_ / Sweetheart

 _À_ Votre _santé_ / To your health

 _À la tienne_ / To Yours


End file.
